


Harry Potter and the Elemental Magik

by NoapologiesNoexcusesNoregrets



Series: Elemental Gods [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, British Comedy, Dark Comedy, Dark Magic, Dragons, Dragonspeak, Elemental Magic, F/F, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Family Feels, Family Secrets, Fire Magic, Friendship/Love, Gen, Gryffindor insanity, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mental Instability, Multi, Opposites Attract, Original Character Death(s), Physical Abuse, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slytherin Politics, Supernatural Elements, Thriller, Tragedy/Comedy, Unrequited Love, Wizarding Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-09 00:26:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 148,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4326831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoapologiesNoexcusesNoregrets/pseuds/NoapologiesNoexcusesNoregrets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Night.</p><p>One Choice.</p><p>One Crash.</p><p>When a tornado and a hurricane collide, all bets are off.</p><p>Three lives become intertwined, and together they will take on the powers of darkness, the curse of blood, the wraith of Gods, and the elements that they were born to control. </p><p>Harry Potter is cunning and powerful. A leader in the making.</p><p>Hermione Granger is clever and strong. A fighter till the very end.</p><p>Draco Black is kind and brave. A saviour to all.</p><p>They were brought together by tragedy, and are bound together by love and magik. </p><p>Will they survive their first year at Hogwarts?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Our three heroes

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so, I have always, ALWAYS, wanted to write a Harry Potter fanfic. But I've also always worried that it would be crap, and I didn't want to ruin Harry Potter for myself by writing a bad fanfic about it. BUT I have been planning this story for the last two years (on and off obviously, I'm not a looney tune recluse who's been sitting in front of my computer for two years rocking back and forth and muttering things like 'WHY did Dobby have to die WHY?' and 'Draco is the love of my life, I shall never love another' ect ect.). Anyway, like I said (typed) I have been planning this fic for ages, and I finally think I'm ready to write it.
> 
> A few warnings-
> 
> 1-I am planning on writing seven stories, one for each of the originals. The titles are listed in order below:
> 
> *Harry Potter and the Elemental Magik
> 
> *Draco Black and the Heir of Darkness
> 
> *Hermione Granger and the Brother of Time
> 
> *Harry Potter and the Fire of Chance
> 
> *Draco Black and the Warriors of the Truth
> 
> *Hermione Granger and the Lord of Memories
> 
> *Harry Potter and the Unbreakable Three
> 
> 2-Some things in my story will be canon, but a lot of it will be...twisted. The magic (or Magik, as it will be called in my fic) is of my own creation, and it's base will be the four elements (Fire, water, air, earth). And then added extra's will be other 'powers'/'abilities'. But I don't want to ruin it by saying too much about that.
> 
> 3-Harry, Draco and Hermione are all equal main characters in my fic. When the story is centered on one of them, it will be written in first person. In any other parts of the story when anyone else is the focus, it will be written in third person.
> 
> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)
> 
> Also, warning for slash (But I won't be telling who, when, or why), violence, foul language, gore and other x-rated things (Obviously this is more for later stories than for this first one, but I thought I'd say it now just to cover all my bases).
> 
> Basically, this fic is something different, something my brain has been cooking up for a long time. All I ask it that you give it a go, and see if you like it. I will kick this story off with a mamoth chapter (I like to write big chapters, but they won't all be quite THIS long).
> 
> Please read and enjoy, and for the love of waffles, please let me know what you think by reviewing! xxx

_25th December 1982_

The Boy Who Lived.

Never has there been a night so cold, so unwilling, so down right perfect for those who wish not to be seen.

Mrs Petunia Dursley is one of those people.

It happened for the first time last week. She did not want to believe it, or acknowledge that it had happened at all. But although she may be ignorant of many things, and bull-headed in her own idealism of how the world should be, even Petunia Dursley, once Petunia Evans, could not ignore this.

Her sister was a witch. A magical being, holding power no muggle could truly understand. Petunia did not understand it, and neither did she ever want to. She was content to live out her life without ever having to mention the word  _magic,_  unless it was brought about by some child's party, and then never in a serious manner. She was happy with her normal husband, her normal son, her normal house, and her ever so  _normal_  life.

But all that changed when a war Petunia had no part in, and was barely aware of, took her sister. And her sister's husband. Leaving Petunia with a boy. A boy with her sister's eyes, and a scar on his forehead.

A boy, that up until last week, seemed perfectly, to Petunia's eyes, _normal._ The boy had cried like a normal child. He had _behaved_ , by all accounts, like a normal child. She had hoped, possibly in vain, that her nephew would, by some stroke of fate, turn out to be just that, a normal boy. Such a thing would have cured all her worries, pushed away her fears, and allowed her to carry on pretending that no other world but the one she lived in, was real.

After last week, on a dim Wednesday afternoon, there could be no more pretending.

Petunia Dursley had left them alone, only for a moment, to take some cookies out of the oven. She could not have predicted the following events. Her son and nephew played, if not together, then at least near each other in the living room. Dudley with his train set, and Harry with a few blocks he had found amongst his cousins discarded toys. Petunia had allowed it, as long as it kept the boy quiet.

Petunia regretted that choice the moment she heard the boy's laughter, for possibly the first time since he had arrived at number four Privet Drive almost a year ago. She had come back into the living room holding a plateful of cookies, only to drop them suddenly with a high pitched scream. Her eyes could barely believe what she was seeing.

Her nephew, however, was crowing in delight as one of the blocks he'd been trying to put on the very top of the tower he had made, floated in mid-air all by itself.

Petunia knew, from that moment, that she could not allow such a thing in her house. It did not belong in her normal life. Magic did not belong. Therefore, her sister's son, did not belong.

Which is why, a week later, Petunia Dursley set out, alone, for Vernon Dursley had agreed to it, but wanted no part in the act itself, with her nephew, to a place where he could be as strange and freakish as he wanted. A place where it would not affect her, or her family. A place where all unwanted children were welcome. It was a good few hours away from her home, which was an added bonus to its purpose.

Petunia carries the sleeping boy in her arms, and is, for a moment, grateful that he is such a quiet child. He seems so innocent in the light of the moon, with his small baby face and tiny hands scrunched up near his chin. But Petunia knows what must be done, and so, without hesitation, she places the child on the wide doorstep, making sure the note is safely attached, rings the door bell, and runs.

Later Petunia would open that box. The box her sister had given her many years ago. A box that Lily had said, when opened, would make her forget. Lily had promised her that the box would make Petunia forget about magic, and all that it involved. Including her sister' existence. It would be sure to make her forget her sister's son too. Petunia had never dared open it, fearing even the magic that could help her. But she had not gotten rid of it. She had kept it. Just in case a time should arrive when no other option seemed viable.

That time was now. Petunia would forget where she had left her nephew, and all those freakish people her sister had associated with would never know where their precious Boy who lived had been taken. It was the only kindness Petunia could think of to offer her nephew, to give him one last chance at being ordinary. Petunia had already destroyed everything that belonged to her nephew, anything that could be used to track him in any way.

Lily may not have understood, but Petunia believes the boy will be better off living without any connection to his past, including the Dursley's.

_Do as I say, do as I must. Ignore what hast become of us._

...

Dalia St. Clair hears the bell ring from her small office, and for a moment she wonders who on earth it could be at this time of night, and on Christmas day no less. But she pushes that aside, in favour of making her way to the door, not wanting the person to ring again and possibly wake up the children sleeping upstairs. Dalia gasps when, after only a few moments of searching the area outside, her eyes lay to rest on a small child, wrapped up in blankets, with a piece of paper placed carefully on his chest.

Dalia St. Clair is a small woman, with bright blond hair streaked with red and a oval shaped face, her eyes a deep blue. She is known for being young of spirit, but old of mind, and is often described as 32 going on 50. She loves to read and cannot understand people who would ever hurt or abandon a child. For the last six years she has been working here, Hollows House, a home for orphaned children. She enjoys her work, but it saddens her to see so many children in need of a good home. Most either move on, or are occasionally fostered.

But this society is not kind to those who do not fit in. Rarely are children, even young ones, actually adopted.

Dalia, Lia to her friends, bends down and picks up the child left on Hollows House's doorstep. She is careful not to lose the obvious note, and she holds the boy close. He slowly begins to wake, but does not cry out. Dalia sucks in a breathe at the sight two big emerald green eyes blinking up at her.

"Hello, sweet heart" Dalia whispers to the boy.

The boy looks up, twitching his head to the side like a puppy, rapt fascination hidden in the depths of his remarkable eyes.

" _Hel-helow_ " the boy says sleepily, his speech slow, but strong.

The boy starts to struggle, and Dalia moves him into a different position, settling him on her hip. She takes one more look outside, checking for any signs of the boy's parents or guardians. When Dalia sees nothing but the dark street beyond the house, she closes the door with her free hand and carries the boy further inside.

Movement from the shadows alerts Dalia to someone else's presence. She smiles slightly when Adam Brooks, the house cook/cleaner, reveals himself.

Both of them had been working late, making plans for the coming week with the children currently in residence of Hollows House. Dalia herself lives in the house next door to Hollows House, but had agreed to stay in with the children tonight, as the usual staff who live with the children in Hollows House are all either with their own families, or had become suddenly 'ill' in the last few days. Dalia had pretended to believe the lies, not minding staying with the children for Christmas. She has no family of her own to go to anyway.

When it had gotten late, Dalia had suggested they turn in, and Adam had gone off to bed, whilst Dalia stayed in her office, doing one last check through of their schedules.

Adam Brooks is a simple, kind soul, and loves children almost as much as Dalia. He is tall, dark skinned and most noticeable about him are his large bear-like hands. His eyes are a gentle brown, and all the children, even the most difficult ones, seem to feel at ease with him. Although Dalia suspects that might be because he sneaks them treats when Dalia isn't around to see it.

Adam rents a room from Dalia in her big house, but tonight he took one of the free rooms in Hollows House so that he could be there to help Dalia in the morning with the children.

Adam blinks rapidly at the boy Dalia is still carrying, a look of confusion on his young face,

"Did Father Christmas bring you that?"

Dalia rolls her eyes at him,

"No. My package finally arrived from BABIES R US."

Adam gives her the thumbs up sign and moves closer to her and the child.

Dalia hands Adam the note that she found on the boy's chest,

"I found him on the door step, read the note for me, see if it explains...well, anything"

Dalia had of course heard of these things, of children being dropped off at orphanages in the dead of night with just a blanket and a note, but she had never experienced a situation such as this in her entire career. She had hoped to never have to.

Adam frowns deeply, but does as Dalia asks and takes the note from her hand. He turns it over a couple of times, and open it, his eyes scanning the note for a very long moment.

Dalia settles a now gurgling child more comfortably on her hip. She smoothes his messy jet black hair away from his forehead, and finds herself gasping at the deep gash in the shape of a lightening bolt embedded in the child's skin. Dalia reaches a hand up to smooth her fingers over his scar gently, but the boy flinches away from the touch, so Dalia stops.

How strange. But then, the whole situation is far beyond strange to begin with.

The boy meets her gaze dead on, and Dalia finds herself enchanted by his eyes yet again. He truly is a beautiful baby. Dalia cannot imagine anyone wanting to give him up. Not by choice anyway.

Perhaps it was a teenage mother. Maybe she was scared about what people would think. The world can be cruel to the weak and vulnerable. That is something Dalia understands only too well.

" _D'nk...plees_ " the green eyed boy says, yawning in between the words.

Dalia smiles at him fondly, and moves toward the kitchen. Adam follows after her, his expression one of displeasure as he reads the note over once more. Dalia takes out a sippie cup from the cupboard, and seemingly on autopilot, Adam goes to get the juice.

"Well, what does it say?" she asks Adam, gesturing at the note whilst Adam fills up the sippie cup.

The boy holds his little hands out in a 'gimmie gimmie' gesture as Adam gives him the cup. Dalia helps the child take a few sips without dropping the cup.

Adam opens up the note again and begins to read aloud,

_"Hello,_

_My parents died over a year ago. The people who were looking after me can't anymore. They know I would be better off here than with them, or anyone else._

_My name is Harry James Potter. Please take care of me._

_Thank you."_

The note is short and horribly vague, but it's point is obvious.  _Do not try to find us_. That is what the note is really saying. Whoever left Harry here knew exactly what they were doing, and do not want to be found.

Something clenches inside Dalia's chest, at the thought of this child having suffered so much already. Dalia lost her parents at a very young age, and she knows the tole it can take, if not when you are child, then when you are older. She does not want Harry to feel as lost as she did, not ever. But then, she doesn't have much control over that.

"He's all alone" Dalia whispers, mostly to herself.

"That's not true" Adam says with feeling, "He has you, now. You're always there for every child who comes into this house"

Yes, but there's something special about this one, Dalia thinks. There's something in his eyes, something that makes Dalia want to hold him close and never let go. She has never felt such an instant connection to any child before.

Harry pushes the sippie cup away suddenly and begins to struggle again.

"D'wn. Me want d'wn" He intones, but then after a moment he adds contritely, " _Pleese_ "

Dalia is struck by how endearing the look on Harry's face is, he seems apologetic and impatient at the same time.

"A cheeky little so and so, ain't he" Adam says, but he sounds more amused than anything.

Dalia agrees with a nod.

"Yes, I believe so"

She takes him into the spacious living room and settles him down on the carpet. Adam is close behind, but unlike Dalia who takes the edge of the sofa, Adam sits down on the floor next to Harry.

They both watch as Harry clambers to his feet, brushing the blanket away from around his shoulders in that funnily annoyed way that only toddlers can pull off. Underneath the blanket Harry is wearing pair of ratty jeans and a big blue top that makes it obvious how small he is. Too small for his age, really. Harry's gaze travels over both of them before he finally ambles over to the windowsill, and attempts to climb onto it. Adam helps him get a leg up after a few moments of watching Harry struggle determinedly on his own.

"Here ya go little man" Adam says as Harry hefts himself the last few inches up and over onto the wide windowsill.

Harry then, without pause, begins to balance himself along the strip of wood, clumsily jumping over toys in his way that other children had left there The living room in Hollows House is usually used duelly as a play room as well.

Dalia watches Harry carefully, ready to jump into action if he should fall. But Adam is there too, laughing along with Harry as he pretends to chase the boy from end of the windowsill to the other. Harry's laugh is loud and cheerful, quite oddly contrasting with his earlier quiet demeanor. Dalia begins to really wonder who had been taking care of him for the last year.

When Harry loses his balance and begins to topple, Dalia catches her breathe and stands up. But Adam catches Harry at the last moment and falls down with him, letting Harry land on his chest. Something Harry finds endlessly amusing.

Dalia goes to her knees on the floor and laughs herself when Adam starts tickling Harry, who promptly flails about laughing and wriggling like mad. Adam eventually allows Harry to escape from his tickling, and Harry slides off of Adam's chest. He finds his footing again and takes off for the sofa, attempting to climb onto it by sheer force of will alone.

Adam smiles over at Dalia and says,

"He's a brave one, I'll give him that"

"Hmmm, a little daredevil" Dalia replies, turning to hover near Harry so that he won't hurt himself.

Adam sits up and moves closer to Dalia, his eyes on her face. She knows her expression must be one of deep emotion, because looking at Harry makes her feel deeply. Deeply sad. Deeply happy. Deeply excited.

Harry gets himself up onto the sofa and then proceeds to lean over the arm so that he can grab at a bauble on the small Christmas tree. Harry manages to get a good grasp on the tree. He loos back at Adam and Dalia, a smile on his face that says 'I'm about to do something naughty, watch me'.

"No, Harry" Dalia says warningly as the boy begins pulling off bits of the tree and dropping them onto the floor, making a mess.

Harry laughs in response and moves on to pulling at one of the baubles, trying to yank it off.

Dalia finds herself trying not to laugh at the look of pure mischief on Harry's face, his eyes sparkling with it practically. Adam leans up on the sofa arm, putting himself at face level with Harry almost.

"Harry, be careful. Leave the bauble alone."

Harry's green eyes seems to shine with amusement,

" _No_ " he says.

"I mean it Harry, stop" Adam repeats when Harry continues to yank at the bauble.

"No" Harry announces again.

Dalia places a hand over her mouth so that she won't be caught smirking as Adam then proceeds to have a ten mute argument with Harry over a bauble. Harry's main argument being ' _no_ '.

Eventually Adam must admit defeat when Harry does manage to get the bauble off of the tree and after one last blank look at Adam, throws it across the room. It doesn't go far, but still.

Adam narrows his eyes at a grinning Harry for a moment in mock anger, and then grabs him, tickling him again until Harry starts shouting for Adam to "'S'op St'p!". Adam lets go and pulls Harry down into his lap. He looks at Dalia and says,

"Oh so now he knows what 'stop' means, Dalia"

Dalia rolls her eyes at Adam again,

"He always knew what 'stop' meant Adam, that's why he found it so funny to do it anyway"

Harry seems to wind himself around Adam, wrapping his arms around his neck and trying to climb up his long body. Adam shakes his head, grinning,

"Can't sit still, little monkey"

"Mo'key" Harry repeats difficulty, his face screws up in concentration.

"That's right, monkey" Dalia says fondly.

Harry's eyes shoot over to Dalia, and he abandons using Adam as a climbing frame, and instead he makes his way over to Dalia. Harry clambers into her lap non too carefully and sits down heavily. He looks up at her and smiles, his little baby teeth showing. Harry waves using his fingers and says,

"D'lia"

Dalia feels something else then, a pang in her heart that almost knocks all the breathe from her body.

Love.

It shouldn't be possible, it can't have been more than an hour since she first found him. But somehow, she's managed to fall in love with this special little boy. Dalia has no doubt that this child is like no other she has ever encountered. Dalia bends down and kisses Harry's head, hugging him close for a long amazing moment.

Harry climbs off Dalia's lap afterwards and makes his way over to the toys in the corner of the room. Harry pulls on Adam's finger, getting him to come over as well.

" _Play_?" Harry questions, looking almost nervous, not yet touching the toys.

Dalia marvels again at the duel personality Harry seems to exhibit, confident in one moment, and then unsure of himself the next.

Adam smiles kindly at the boy and hands him a toy car,

"Yes, we can play"

After about another hour of play time, time which Dalia uses to think of her new predicament, Harry begins to yawn every few seconds. Dalia waits until his head is practically lolling before scooting closer and taking him into her arms again. He makes no protest and promptly falls asleep in her embrace. Dalia moves herself so that she can lean back against the sofa.

Dalia can feel Adam watching her as she gently strokes Harry's face lovingly. She feels him sits down next to her. And she definitely hears him ask,

"So, are you adopting him or not?"

Dalia looks up, startled, her blue eyes wide,

"What?"

Adam smiles slightly and looks pointedly at Harry,

"I've never seen you act like that with a child before. So loving."

Dalia balks at his wording,

"I care about all the children, Adam, you know that"

Adam gives her raised eyebrow,

"I know. But this is the first time you've ever looked like you want to steal one"

Dalia huffs out a laugh,

"I suppose that's true."

Adam smiles at her again, although this time it has an amused edge,

"Just let me know if I'm going to be helping with this particular kidnapping. I like to be prepared for all my criminal activities."

Dalia shakes her head, wishing she could hit his arm, but she'd wake Harry if she attempted to hurt Adam right now. Instead she settles for muttering,

"Idiot."

"Rude" Adam frowns in mock hurt, "So, are we staging a baby-napping then?"

"No, we are not, you lunatic" Dalia says in exasperation. After a pause, she adds, "It wouldn't technically be kidnapping anyway, he was left on my doorstep after all"

Adam makes a 'so so' gesture with his hand,

"Technically he was left on Hollows House's doorstep, if we're getting factual about it"

"Ah, technicalities" Dalia waves her hand, managing to free it from underneath Harry.

Dalia and Adam both laugh, but Adam's voice is serious when he says,

"You really could, you know"

Dalia frowns at him,

"I could what?"

"Take him" Adam says simply.

"I wouldn't get very far, I do happen to live next door"

"Yes, but there's nothing against you legally adopting him. You must know some people who could speed a process like that along." Adam says thoughtfully.

Dalia pauses at that. It is true, if she wanted to legally become Harry's guardian, it wouldn't be too much of a hardship. She knows plenty of social workers, quite a few who owe her a favour. And it's likely if she doesn't make a move now, then Harry could be taken away somewhere. She might never see him again. That thought is like a knife slicing through her insides.

Dalia can't allow that to happen. Despite how insane it might be, she truly believes that she was meant to find Harry. Harry was meant to be hers. Never has anything felt so true in all Dalia's life.

"I could do it" Dalia whispers, looking down at Harry's sleeping face.

"You should" Adam says, "You'd make a great parent, Dalia, I've always thought so"

Dalia turns to Adam in surprise,

"You have?"

Adam nods, his expression sure and honest,

"Of course. No one cares as much as you do. You work so hard for these children, it's one of the reasons I love working here."

Dalia smiles gratefully at Adam, blushing slightly at such sigh praise. She never knew he felt that way. If anything Dalia has always been awed by Adam's natural confidence with the children. They all love him, treats or no treats.

"I don't know how to explain it" Dalia confesses to Adam, "But I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for Harry." It's a strong and powerful feeling, this love for the little boy with green eyes, and somehow it has managed to dig deep under her skin and into her heart in the matter of a few hours.

Adam, far from looking at her as if she's gone completely mental, which she probably deserves, nods in understanding and says,

"Sometimes love can be like that. It comes in all different shapes and sizes, which is one of reasons why it's so wonderful."

And so painful.

But Dalia knows Adam is right. You can be struck by it at any moment, and Dalia also knows that she has been well and truly struck.

Over the next few months, following Harry's arrival into Dalia's life, she calls in every one of the favours owed to her. There are a few bumps in the road, a few times when it looked like she might lose Harry, but with Adam's surprisingly strong support, Dalia eventually receives a piece of paper, stating her legal guardianship of Harry.

Dalia moves Harry into her own house, coveting Adam's help to clean and set up a room for the boy. Harry, for his part, seemed to settle into life with Dalia as if he was always meant to be there. He became more confident and less introverted as the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months.

There had been only one truly horrible moment when Dalia first moved Harry in. Dalia had opened the cupboard under the stairs to grab a broom, and Harry had screamed and cried the house down. Adam had come running, thinking something awful must have happened. It took them quite a while to get Harry to calm down, having to promise him over and over again that he would never have to go into the cupboard under the stairs if he didn't want to again.

Dalia had been around abused children enough to understand what a reaction like that meant, and she cursed whoever had done such a terrible thing to Harry. She vowed to do everything within her power to protect him, to never allow anyone to hurt him if she could help it.

One constant was always Adam, who helped out as much as he could with Harry. Both Harry and Dalia had become rather used to Adam being around. He did live in one of her rooms after all.

Even so, Dalia was surprised to find out how much they had in common. It was strange, as they had been working together closely for years, but only got to know each other properly after Harry arrived.

Dalia now see's Adam as a friend, a good friend.

Despite how happy Dalia is to have Harry, she still cannot help but wonder about all the mystery that surrounds him. She also cannot let go of the feeling that he is somehow special, different to every other child. It isn't something that bothers her exactly, it's simple curiosity. A sense of  _knowing_.

Life is good for Dalia and Harry, both of them becoming more and more attached to the other every day. Dalia believes nothing could ever compare to finding Harry on that doorstep on Christmas day.

Two years later, however, another blond woman will make a decision. And another special child will enter Dalia's world.

Dalia and Harry's lives are about to change yet again. And nothing will ever be the same.

_For fate I trust. For love I fall. For you I burn. Trust in me, and freedom shall be your reward._

* * *

_19th August 1984_

The Marked Heir.

She cannot take it any longer. Not for a single moment.

The only way to protect him is to send him away. He must leave everything he knows. Take nothing that could link him to his old life. Start over.

Start over as someone else. Her son.

 ** _His_**  son.

No, she mentally shoves that thought to the back of her mind. She cannot think of Him now. The memories are too painful. They almost broke her. He almost broke her. But now she has a chance, just one chance, to help him escape. To send him away so that he can be safe. So that he can know happiness, if only for a short time.

Lucius Malfoy is in prison.  _He_  is dead. She is dying. Her son is marked, but alive.

Marked by darkness. But then, aren't they all.

Draco Black. Her son, that will be the only name he will ever know. Or at least remember.

Lucius can never know the truth. He can never know who her son's biological father truly is. Neither can Draco. It would destroy him. It would destroy any chance that he might have at building a life for himself.

Narcissa has already stripped the memories from his mind, to make Draco forget her, forget this place, forget magik. It's for the best. He cannot miss what he does not remember after all. She made him sleep as well, he will only awaken when the deed is done.

If things had been different, if  _He_  hadn't ruined everything, then Narcissa would never have imagined sending her own son away like this. But things are not different. This is her life, and she must accept the consequences.

Narcissa cannot bring herself to live another moment. She cannot subject her son to such pain. So the only other option is to give him a new life, far away from the one he has now. She knows it is right, can feel it deep inside her heart. She can give her son his freedom.

Not one for emotion in most circumstances, thanks to her Pure-blood upbringing, Narcissa bends slowly to place a kiss on her son's forehead. She presses her fingers over his heart, imagining the mark that lies beneath. No magik she could find was capable of shielding it. It looks like a scar left by dark magik, but Narcissa knows it to be a birthmark.

Narcissa attaches a neatly written note to her son's jacket, and with a final long look at his beautiful face, she uses a magikal object, a compass, from the Black vaults, to send Draco away. She has no idea where it will take him, only that it will send him to where he is meant to be. A place that will give him the best chance at freedom.

Later, as she steps off of the balcony, she asks one final time for the Fates to be kind to her son. He will need it for the future.

_For that path welcomes darkness and death. There is no other way it can end._

_..._

Dalia St. Clair smiles broadly as she hangs out some washing on the line. Harry and Adam are playing football. Well, that might be over estimating it a bit. It's more like Harry is kicking the ball as far and as hard as can, and then chasing after it, with Adam pretending to chase the ball as well alongside Harry.

"Come on, little man, you got this" Adam calls out to Harry as he starts kicking the ball along up to the 'goal' a.k.a two jumpers on the ground set a few feet apart.

Harry gets madly excited nonetheless and gives the ball an extra hard kick, sending it flying far beyond the goal. Something Dalia had to get used to with Harry was his endless amount of energy, the boy cannot sit still to save his life. He's always up and walking, or more often running around, getting himself into all kinds of trouble. He's surpringly sneaky about it though. Last week the little rascal decided it would be a good idea to pour ALL of the washing powder into the washing machine and set it up to the highest temperature after being sent to bed early the previous night.

The utility room was full of bubbles for days.

Never doubt a small child's ability to enact revenge.

Of course Adam thought it was hilarious and even high fived Harry when he found out about it. One swift look from Dalia had wiped the smile off Adam's face. He offered to clean it all up as penance. Dalia had been forced to forgive him though when he'd somehow managed to make her laugh by creating himself a bubble beard and mimicked their next door neighbour Mr. Gigg. Otherwise known as the most grumpy man alive.

Harry, as expected, starts jumping up and down, shouting,

"Goal, goal, goal!"

Adam rushes at Harry, picking him up one quick swoop and lifting him over his head. Harry laughs hard, practically yelling in delight. Harry loves to be lifted up, or to be thrown up into the air, in Adam's case. He says it feels like flying.

When Adam puts Harry down, Dalia comes over and says,

"Anybody feel like some lunch?"

"Sounds good to me" Adam says, a warm smile on his face when he regards Dalia.

Dalia tries her best not to blush like an idiot, and turns her attention to Harry, who is nodding enthusiastically over the thought of food. In the last almost two years Harry has filled out quite a bit, no longer looking like as if he hasn't eaten in days as he did when Dalia first found him.

"Ok then, you go grab the ball and come inside. Wash your hands with Adam and I'll make some sandwiches. Maybe later we can go swimming again"

It's Dalia and Adam's day off, so there's nothing for either of them to worry about doing until tomorrow. Free days are rare for both of them, so they like to make the most of it while they can.

Harry's eyes brighten considerably,

"Swim, swim, swim!" He chants excitedly.

"Only if you're a good boy and wash your hands before lunch" Dalia says, mock sternly.

Harry starts nodding again and dashes off to grab the ball. Adam laughs and follows after Dalia into the house. Dalia's home is surrounded by fences and a gate, there's no way even Harry could get out of here by himself. Not unless he's mastered the art of walking through solid objects.

That thought makes Dalia pause, but then she shakes her head, calling herself stupid for even thinking it.

Although, only six months after adopting Harry, Dalia learned just how special he really is. It was little things at first, objects not being where she left them, doors opening and closing by themselves, the lights flickering when Harry became upset, but what really did it was finding Harry on the conservatory roof one day, and almost having a heart attack when he jumped off of it, only to then watch him float to the ground like a feather.

Dalia supposes any normal person would have been scared, or possibly have a complete meltdown. But all Dalia felt was relief that she finally knew she'd been right. Harry is special. She may not understand exactly how or why, but at least she's not insane.

Or not as insane as she thought.

That's something at least.

Telling Adam about it was the hardest part in truth, she worried he might not see it the way she did. But Dalia needn't have feared, Adam not only believed her, he was the one who suggested they look into why Harry is special. He reasoned that there must be others who can do what he does. Maybe even his parents.

 **Harry's P.O.V** ( _Please excuse his inner thoughts being a bit mature language-wise)_

I rush towards the ball, wanting to get back inside fast so that I can have food with Dalia and Adam.

I think my ball went into the bushes, behind the big tree.

But when I get round the tree I see someone lying on the ground. It's not one of the children from Hollows House, I know all of them.

This is someone new. He feels strange. Different. He's not like the other children I've played with at Hollows House or at the park. He makes my forehead buzz. It doesn't hurt. It just feels...aware.

Dalia says that I'm different. She says I'm special because I can do things that other children can't do. Like when I jumped off the roof.

I don't know why other children can't do the things I do, it's easy, I don't even have to think about it really.

Adam says it's because the other children are ordinary. He told me it's ok not to be ordinary, and that it's ok to be ordinary as well. I don't really understand what that means. Dalia said it means that everyone is special in their own way, and that I'm just special in a very unique way that most people aren't.

But, this boy feels different. He's special. He's special like me. I  _know_  it.

I want to touch the other boy. Something inside me is drawn to him. We are the same.

There's something over his heart. I don't know what, but my scar knows.

I'm about to bend down and tap his shoulder to get him to wake up, when suddenly he sits up, gasping frantically.

His eyes meet mine and something explodes inside my mind. I can feel him, in my head. I can feel that he's like me.

"Hi" I say cautiously.

The boy's eyes are blue. Pale blue. But there's a weird ring of black within the blue as well. His eyes are special, I like them.

"Hello" he replies, a little unsteadily.

I hold my hand out, to help him stand up. The boy eyes me warily, but takes my hand after a moment of hesitation. I feel a jolt of power shoot through my body when our hands touch, and the boy gasps. He doesn't let go though, and neither do I.

"My name's Harry" I say when the boy is standing upright. "What's your name?"

The boy bites his lip nervously, and then replies,

"Draco"

Harry tilts his head to the side,

"That's a funny name"

"Is it?" Draco asks, tilting his head to side too.

I shrug,

"I don't know, it just sounds kinda weird. Like dragon, but not."

Draco smiles slightly, his pale eyes brightening some,

"I like dragons"

I get a little excited at that,

"Have you ever seen one?"

Draco frowns and then shakes his head,

"I don't remember"

"Oh" I thought maybe he knew some secret stuff. I wish dragons were real. I bet they are, and adults just don't know about them. "Where are your mum and dad?"

Draco frowns again, deeper this time,

"I...don't...know."

How can he not know? I dismiss the question immediately. It doesn't really matter, he's here now, and maybe, if I'm good, I'll get to keep him.

"Do you wanna come inside? Dalia is making sandwiches"

Draco smiles again slightly and nods,

"Is Dalia your mum?" he asks speculatively.

I laugh at that,

"Nah, Dalia looks after me, but she's not really my mum"

"Where is your mum then?" Draco asks as I lead him back to house, still pulling on his hand.

I think hard about that for a moment.

"Dalia says she had to go away. My dad too."

"Are they gonna come back?" Draco lets me pull him, and tries to match my speed by quickening his pace.

"No. Dalia says they can't come back. But she says they're probably watching out for me.. She says they're always around, even if I can't see them." It makes me feel strange to think about my parents. A lot of the other children in Hollows House get upset when they think about theirs.

"That sounds kind of creepy" Draco says, and he pulls a face, making him look a little like a baby fox. And I know that because I've seen a baby fox before. Adam and Dalia took me out walking in the fields near our house, and we saw some there. They were really tiny.

"I know, that's what I thought too" I say to Draco.

I take Draco through into the kitchen where Adam and Dalia are. Dalia starts to turn around, saying,

"I hope you've washed your hands young ma-Oh my God!"

Dalia stares blankly at Draco and I for a moment. Draco tenses and tries to pull his hand away from mine, but I grip on fast. Adam turns around too at the shock in Dalia's voice, and his own eyes widen when they fasten on Draco.

"This is my new friend, Draco" I say to the two very confused looking adults in front of me.

Dalia snaps out of it first and moves forward,

"Oh...hello" she smiles warmly at Draco, who in response smiles tentatively back. "Where did you come from?"

Draco shrugs and frown again,

"I don't know. I don't remember."

"Where are your parents? Do they know you're here?" Adam asks gently.

Draco bites his lip and says,

"I really don't know." Then something seems to spark in his mind, because he pulls at a piece of paper that is pinned to his jacket, and he thrusts it towards Dalia.

Dalia blinks uncertainly for a moment and then takes the note and opens it.

***End of Harry's P.O.V***

Dalia has no idea what to make of the strange looking boy who her adopted son is clutching like he's his favourite toy ever. But she opens the note he gave her and finds herself shocked by the words.

Adam notices the tension in her body, and he comes round the table in the kitchen to where she is standing in front of Harry, so that he can read the note over her shoulder. She feels him tense too.

The note reads simply, in perfect fancy lettering,

_"To whoever finds this, my son's name is Draco Black._

_He is special, which I'm sure you will find out soon enough._

_Love him. Care for him. That is all I ask."_

For a moment, all Dalia can think is, whoever wrote this had amazing penmanship. But then reality comes crashing back to her and she looks up from the note and at the boy, Draco.

Draco is a slim and finely boned looking boy, he appears tall for his age, and has noticeably pale skin. His eyes are a pale blue, made to stand out even more so by the circle of black within his iris. Finally his hair is a pale blond, similar to that of moonlight, although the very tips of his hair are black, and there is a thick strip of black hair that runs all the way from the root in his fringe.

Dalia thinks, just as she does with Harry, that he will grow up to be a very handsome young man one day.

"Uh...Harry" Dalia begins, knowing she has allowed the silence to go on for too long, "Why don't you take Draco upstairs to wash hands, and then I'll bring your sandwiches up to your room. You can show...Draco...your new toy car"

Harry beams up at Dalia, as if she's just handed him the world on a plate, and nods,

"He's special like me, you know. Come on Draco!"

Before Harry can drag Draco from the room, the pale eyed boy looks up at Dalia meeting, her gaze head on,

"I really don't know where my parents are. But I don't think they're gonna come for me. I think they're gone, like Harry's mum and dad. I can feel it."

Then he follows Harry willingly away and up the stairs, the two of them talking quietly and earnestly to one another as they go.

Another strange boy, with strange eyes.

Dalia turns to Adam,

"What are we going to do?"

Adam pauses for a moment and then says,

"That was gonna be my line, actually"

Dalia lifts her arms and lets them slap back against her sides,

"I have no idea...do you think the note is...serious? Do you really think that...and why doesn't he remember?"

Adam shakes his head and puts his arm around a distressed Dalia,

"I wouldn't believe it if we hadn't found Harry. I would say to hand Draco over to the police, or social services. But you heard what Harry said...he said Draco is special, like him. And the note...it said he was special too. What if that means-"

"We can't possibly take in a child based solely on the fact that he might,  _possibly_ , be special like Harry. That's insane." Dalia says, whilst nibbling on her thumb nail. Something Adam knows she only does when she's conflicted.

"Why not? You took in Harry based on a few hours with him." Adam says.

"That was different" Dalia argues.

But is it? Dalia thinks about the way Draco looked at her when he said his parents weren't coming back for him, how her heart melted for him, just like it had done for Harry. A deep protective pit opened up inside her, exactly as it had done with Harry.

Could she really feel connected to yet another strange child?

Adam sighs heavily,

"If you really feel that way, then I suppose we should go call social services right now before the boy gets the wrong idea, and especailly before Harry get the wrong idea, you saw the way he was gripping Draco's hand. It's likely we'll have to pry Harry away from him"

Adam moves away from Dalia and over to the phone, to call social services, presumably.

"No!" Dalia says, a feeling like dread passing through her at the thought of Draco really being taken away, both for Draco's sake and for Harry's. Never has Harry behaved like that towards any other child, and foolish as it might be, Dalia chooses to believe that that means something.

Adam turns back to Dalia and raises an eyebrow questioningly,

"Then what do we do? I'll follow your lead on this one"

Dalia doesn't know what the right decision is, not this time. It was one thing to adopt Harry, but to adopt another child as well, as a single parent, would be a challenge, even with Adam around to help out. She's not even sure if it would be allowed.

"For now we'll just leave things as they are. Draco can stay here tonight and we'll...see how things go after that" Dalia says, still not sure if it's the right choice or not.

Adam nods in agreement, and for a moment Dalia feels eternally grateful towards this man.

"Thank you, so much for all this. Thank you for not thinking I'm mad for wanting to adopt two children who I've only just met" she reaches out and squeezes his arm.

Adam smiles back at her, a smile that tugs at her heart for all the best reasons,

"I've got your back, Dalia, whatever you need, I'm here. For you and the boys. You're not the only one who feels something different about those two than all the other children we've ever tried to help."

"They're special" Dalia murmurs

"They're where they're meant to be. Here. With us. And I don't care how mad that sounds" Adam says firmly, with emotion so strong in his voice that Dalia is almost struck speechless by it.

It is mad. All of it is completely insane in fact. But Dalia can't help but agree with every word that Adam just said. No matter what happens from here, Dalia's world has been rocked, yet again, by a strangely enchanting child in need of love.

_Your soul is united. My soul is intertwined. Together shall we be, for all of time._

* * *

_21st September 1987_

The Girl Who Survived.

"Harry Potter! Draco Black! Both of you better be down here in five minutes, or you'll be late for school" Dalia calls up the stairs, and then goes back into the kitchen. She rolls her eyes at Adam, who is smiling knowingly and sitting at the table finishing off his own breakfast.

About a year ago, Adam left his job at Hallows House when he was offered the position as head chief at a very well known restaurant in town. Dalia had been almost devastated at the time, although she was happy for Adam as well. She had thought that meant he would move out of her house so that he could be closer to his new job. But Adam had yet to make any mention of leaving, and Dalia had put off bringing it up, in fear that he might actually leave.

Although she wouldn't like to admit it, she has come to depend on Adam in a very important way, and not only with the boys.

Almost exactly five minutes later, Dalia hears the sound of thundering feet as two seven year old boys race down to the kitchen. Draco is chattering loudly, whereas Harry is smirking, a sure sign that he's got something planned for later. Dalia can only hope that it doesn't get either him or Draco in trouble again at school, the headmistress has already called Dalia in a few times in the last couple of months to discuss her adopted sons behaviour.

It was decided after only a few days of Draco staying with them that he would become a permanent member of their strange little family. Dalia fell in love with him after only one mumbled conversation. Draco had been shy at first, but then a few months in, something had seemed to snap into place inside him, because suddenly he became bolder and more reckless than Harry had ever been.

Dalia takes one look at the boys and shakes her head. Harry's hair is even messier than usual, as Dalia's sure he's given up on brushing it. To be fair, brushing it hardly ever makes any difference anyway. Draco is missing a shoe, and his jumper and polo shirt have both been hazardly put on, going by how crumpled they are.

Harry heads straight for the food, whilst Draco hangs back and starts whispering into his sleeve, in what he seems to think is a covert manner. Dalia exchanges a look with Adam and he shrugs, making a 'go ahead' gesture. Dalia nods and then pierces Draco with a hard look. He immedeitly notices and straightens, attempting to look casual as he moves towards the table to sit down.

Dalia is not fooled.

"Draco, we've discussed this, you are not taking him to school with you"

Out of the corner of her eye, she see's Harry stiffen ever so slightly. Aha, that's what he was smirking about then. Sneaky little sod. But then, he's a better liar than Draco. Dalia is never sure what to make of that.

Draco turns to Dalia and shuffles his feet,

"I don't know what you mean. Take who?"

"You know very well who. The tiny snake up your sleeve. Now take him out and put him back in his tank in your room." Or better yet, Dalia thinks, take him back outside to the pond where you found him in the first place.

"You too Harry" Adam says with a mock stern expression on his face.

He tries, he really does, but there is nothing even remotely scary about Adam, no matter how tall or wide shouldered he is.

Harry makes a frustrated growling sound and glares at Draco,

"Aw, Dragon, I told you not to talk to him until we got to school."

Harry doesn't sound all that angry, he never does with Draco, there seems to be some eternal patience he has regarding the other boy. But there is a coldness to his voice that Dalia knows aftects Draco far more than anger from anyone else.

Draco hangs his head and reaches up his sleeve to bring out his pet snake, named Vita, meaning 'Life' in Latin. Vita is very small, being only a few months old, and has black as night scales.

"Sorry, Bolt" Draco says in his most apologetic voice, whilst looking up at Harry from under his eyelashes.

Harry narrows his eyes even further at the mention of the nickname only Draco can get away with using. When Harry started calling Draco 'Dragon' at every opportunity, much to Draco's both delight and chargrine, Draco was determined to come up with his own nickname for Harry. Dalia isn't exactly sure how it came to be 'Bolt', but she's guessing it has everything to do with the scar on Harry's forehead.

Dalia was very shocked when she found, whilst helping Draco get ready for bed that first night, a birthmark over his heart. At first she thought it must be a tattoo, but Draco insisted that it wasn't. He couldn't say what it was though, because just like his parents and his life before coming to this house, he couldn't remember. The mark is black as ink, which is one of the reasons that made her think it was a tattoo in the first place, and forms a skull, with a snake coming out of it's mouth.

She took Draco to doctors, to see if there was something they could do about the mark. But when any doctor tried to do anything to remove it, the mark began to move, and Dalia could swear she heard the snake itself hissing threateningly at them. The doctor never saw it, but Dalia did. She chose not to risk anyone messing around with it until the mark actually presented a problem. So far, it hadn't. But she knew it was somehow connected to Harry's scar, because he always said it buzzed and itched like crazy when anyone touched the mark.

Dalia attributed the unique mark to just one more thing that was strange about the two boys. Much the same way she did when a few months ago she found both Harry and Draco out by the pond in Hallows House's garden, speaking in a strange language that sounded too precise and alien to be made up. Upon moving closer she saw that they weren't speaking just to each other, they were talking to two baby snakes.

Instead of freaking out, like she wanted to, Dalia had gone inside to grab Adam and brought him over to see if he thought she was just seeing things. But it was clear to both of them that Harry and Draco were indeed communicating with snakes. The young boys had tried to explain to Dalia and Adam how they spoke to the snakes, but it seemed that it was just in their natural ability to do so.

Draco had argued passionately and fiercely in favour of bringing the snakes home to live with them, to which Dalia and Adam had hesitated. Harry stood quietly and calmly whilst explaining his reasoning for wanting to keep the snakes, and the solutions to any problems that may arise because of the snake's presence in the house. Putting both those things together meant Dalia had agreed to let them keep the snakes. On the condition that they stay either inside the house, or in the garden of their home.

And that, under no circumstances, were they EVER allowed to take the snakes to school with them.

Obviously they had now tried to break that rule.

Harry goes over to Draco and regards him coolly for a moment. Draco bites his lip self consciously and meets Harry's eyes,

"I really am sorry"

Something seems to crack in Harry's stoic facade, because he rolls his emerald eyes good naturally and says,

"Yeah, yeah, I forgive you. Just stop with the puppy eyes."

Dalia almost laughs when Draco immediately grins and throws his arms around Harry, giving him a good hard hug. Harry allows the hug to continue for a few moments, and then pulls away. Harry's snake pokes out of his shirt collar and makes it's way down over the boy's arm. Harry's snake is dark green, and is named Spero, which in Latin means 'Hope'. The two boys begin speaking to their snakes quietly. According to Harry and Draco, the snakes are brothers from the same nest.

Dalia then reminds herself that she should be angry, or at least annoyed, with her adopted sons.

"Harry, Draco, what in the world made you think it was a good idea to take those snakes to school?" she demands, arms crossed in front of her.

The boys exchange glances, and then Harry says neutrally,

"We would prefer not to disclose that information at this time. Not until the matter is resolved at least."

Whoever said children should read more books, obviously had never considered how adult that might make them sound. It's difficult to argue with Harry when he's speaking so reasonably. Dalia sometimes has to take a few minutes to come up with a good valid argument to counteract his. Then she realises she's debating with a seven year old, and the whole world begins to feel a bit ridiculous.

"What 'matter' is that then?" Adam asks a little suspiciously ,"Were you going to use them as part of some plot to get back at somebody. Like last time with the bucket of blue paint?"

About six months ago Harry had used one of his special... _abilities_ , to hover a bucket of blue paint over a teacher and then let it tip onto that teacher's head, covering them in paint. The children all still call him . Harry adamantly refused to say why he did it, but Dalia and Adam are sure it was because Harry overheard that teacher call Draco's eyes freakish and disturbing.

Harry has always been protective of Draco, from the very moment they met. Dalia can't really blame him, there is something about Draco that is almost bewitching. He is instantly loved by almost everyone he meets.

Draco is also very much attached to Harry, adores him in fact, and he seems to view Harry as his only true match and friend. They are almost each other opposites, and they balance each other out very well in most cases. Dalia truly worries about the day something might threaten Draco and Harry's bond.

"I can neither confirm nor deny that statement." Harry says simply, and in a tone that suggests he will say no more about it, no matter what Dalia and Adam do.

"Oh for goodness sake" Dalia says in frustration, "You're both banned from going outside to play after school for the next two weeks. There. Now sit down and eat your breakfast quickly, or we really will be late"

Both Harry and Draco move fast to do as they are told. Despite how naughty they can both be at times, Dalia wouldn't wish for any other children. Although, she thinks whilst watching three males scoff down food like animals, a girl might be nice.

...

Adam gets the call near the end of his shift at the restaurant. A call that would change his life forever.

Two of his best friends have been in a car accident, as well as their seven year old daughter.

The girl has survived. Her parents have not.

But the little girl isn't just his friend's daughter. She is also Adam's Goddaughter.

And the person calling him is a woman he knows quite well from social services, a woman who has just informed him that he is now the legal guardian of a little girl.

Adam phones Dalia first, because there really is nobody else in this life that he can trust to help him with this. He explains the situation to her in hushed tones, hoping for some kind of guidance from her.

"Do you need me to come with you and help with her?" Dalia asks, a deep sadness in her voice, the same voice she uses when a new child comes to Hollows House.

"No, you need to pick up the boys from school...I just wanted to let you know"

"Alright, if you're sure...do you know what time you'll most likely be home? I could set up a room for her"

Adam smiles in delighted surprise,

"Are you saying it would be alright for me to continue living with you and the boys? I know three children living together like that could be a lot to deal with"

Adam tries his best not to let grief overwhelm him at the thought of his little Goddaughter growing up without her parents. The same way Adam did. The same way Dalia did. The way all the children at Hallows House are doing.

"Of course it would be alright, you great prat. You can stay with us for as long as you want to. Besides, maybe it would be helpful for her to be near other children who can understand what she's lost" Dalia replies firmly.

Adam isn't sure whether to be less or more nervous now. God only knows how Harry and Draco will react to another child invading their home. Let alone a girl. Especially a girl like Hermione, who is far more mature than her seven years. But of course, Harry and Draco are also strangely mature for seven year old boys, although Adam always thought that was part of their own unique strangeness.

It's weird really how they've all never really met before. But, the Grangers do live a few hours away, and Adam only ever went to visit them on his own. Adam would have liked the chance to introduce the Grangers to Dalia one day, as he's sure they would have loved her. Adam can't think of a reason why anyone wouldn't.

But then, he's known for a while now where his heart truly lies in regards to Dalia St. Clair. He also knows, however, that she would never return his feelings, or at least not at the intensity that Adam feels them. That's alright though, Adam is content to stay by her side as a friend. For now at least. Adam has a feeling the next few months are going to be hectic and stressful enough without bringing any romantic unrequited love nonsense into the situation. That kind of nonsense can come later.

Adam makes his way over to the home where Hermione had been taken before they contacted him. As soon as the little girl catches sight of Adam, she runs to him and throws her arms around his body. She clings to him desperately, and he can hear her sniffling against his shirt. He leans down and picks her up, holding Hermione to his chest protectively.

"I know, baby girl, I know" he whispers against her bushy brown hair.

He can tell Hermione doesn't want to cry in front of strangers, so he gets them both out there as fast as he can, signing about three hundred pages of paper work, which he knows from helping Dalia adopt Draco and Harry is only the beginning of many more meetings and bits of paper work that somehow all mean something important, but just sound like gibberish to him.

Hermione doesn't say much as Adam takes her home finally. There isn't much for either of them to say. Adam wishes he could do something, say something, that would make everything ok. But he can't, because there isn't anything that will ever make this alright. He can't tell her not to be upset, he can't tell her how to handle her grief, because that wouldn't be fair.

All he can do is be there, and promise her that she is now the most important person in his life. It's the very least that he can offer his Goddaughter.

...

"Harry, Draco, I have something important to talk with you both about" Dalia says.

The boys exchange an unreadable glance and Dalia feels a pang of something strike within her. These two boys are her life, the most important people in her world. The thought of ever losing either one of them is like a slashing cut to her very soul, a cut that would gape open for the rest of her days on this earth. She isn't sure if that's what it should feel like to be a mother, but that's how it feels to her.

Dalia sits down on the floor in front of Harry and Draco, both of whom are staring back at her, Harry with casual interest and Draco with rapt attention. Dalia has often marveled over the last few years with her adopted children, how different they have grown to be.

Harry is independent and strong willed, a leader in the making. But he is also fairly secretive and stubborn when it comes to the things he really cares about. You never know exactly what he's thinking at any given time. Harry does not share his emotions freely, that kind of trust must to be earned.

Draco on the other hand is kind and good-hearted. But he can also be very blunt, and he often seems more in tune with the world around him than the people who exist upon it. He would risk his life to save a baby bird, but when it comes to other people's emotions, he finds it hard to fully understand them.

Of course, they are still so young, and many things could change. The world around Harry and Draco could shape them into completely different people. Life has that kind of power.

Dalia pauses for a moment, trying to decide how best to tell the boys about Adam's friend's death, and what that would mean for all of them. Dalia meant what she said to Adam, he and his Goddaugher will always have a place here for as long as he wants it.

"Adam is going to be home in a few hours, and he's not coming home alone" Dalia begins carefully.

"Does he have a girlfriend? Is that who he's bringing home?" Draco asks in his high, almost musical, sounding voice.

Dalia blinks in surprise, both at the suspicious look in Harry's bright gaze, and the thoughtful nature of Draco's tone, as if he's considering something he doesn't like, but isn't sure why yet.

Dalia is also surprised by the force, within which she practically snaps,

"No! Adam is not bringing home a girlfriend. That isn't what I meant"

Draco's unique eyes widen, the black ring inside the iris thickening with emotion, and a crackle of something akin to lightening flashes around his pupils. Harry studies Dalia's face almost guardedly, and she watches as he unconsciously shifts closer to Draco.

Dalia immediately feels like the most horrible woman who ever lived, and her face softens,

"I'm very sorry for snapping Draco, that was wrong of me. I was just surprised to hear you say something like that."

Harry relents only ever so slightly, his intense stare lessening somewhat. Dalia knows Harry trusts her, and loves her as his adoptive mother, but Draco will always come first for him, above everyone. That is something Dalia knows with absolute certainty. It doesn't bother her, mostly because she has a strange feeling that their closeness could be the key to…well, something. Possibly something she can never understand, or even comprehend at this point.

"I forgive you" Draco says readily, seemingly happy to just let the previous few minutes of tension go without a second thought.

Harry says nothing, but he smiles at Dalia, encouraging her without words to continue with what she was trying to tell them.

"Right then. What I meant to say, was that two of Adam's friends were in a terrible accident a few days ago, and now their daughter, Adam's Goddaughter, Hermione, is coming to stay with us."

A moment of silence, and then,

"Are Hermon's parents gone too, like mine and Harry's?"

There's such a sadness in Draco's voice, that it breaks Dalia's heart a little to hear it, even though the affect is somewhat tainted by his mispronunciation of Hermione's name.

"Yes, Draco, sweetheart, they're gone too"

Dalia see's sympathy seeping into Harry's expression, probably against his will, as he says,

"We promise to be nice to her. We'll make Hermione feel welcome in our home, will that help?" He asks the question genuinely, as if he doesn't see the point in doing it if it  _won't_  help.

"Yes, I think that might be good. I would be very proud of you both if you tried to be friendly with Hermione. I think she'll need people around her right now that she can trust to be kind and understanding" Dalia answers. She isn't sure if the two seven year olds will grasp everything that she's saying, but they've surprised her before with their intelligence, so she's quite confident they'll at least get the gist of it.

"Hermon can be our new friend" Draco says, sounding almost excited now, he turns to Harry and asks, "Do you think she'll like our snakes?"

_Oh, Heaven help us all._

...

"Can you talk to snakes?" Draco asks Hermione, sounding like he's just stumbled upon a villiage made of chocolate.

Hermione raises an eyebrow inquisitively, and shakes her head,

"No. But I can to talk to cats."

Dalia doesn't know what to do with herself. How can it be possible?

The moment Hermione stepped into the house, Dalia saw something in her, just as she had with Draco and Harry the first time she'd seen them. She could not believe it was happening for a third time. But it is. Yet again, a very special child has been thrust into Dalia's life.

Harry and Draco knew it from just setting eyes on Hermione. Although it was Draco who remarked first that Hermione felt special. Not in the same intense way that Harry and Draco felt towards each other when they first met, Harry informed them, but enough to know that she isn't like other children.

If nothing else, this seemed to distract Hermione from her grief for a time, as she instantly demanded to know what they meant by 'special'. Harry and Draco went on to explain between them about their abilities, including a few Dalia hadn't even been aware of.

For example, when Harry explained that he sometimes could control electricity, and create illusions by just willing it to be so. Draco admitted that he could enter Harry's dreams, and even sometimes other people's, and that once he managed to get into someone's head whilst they were daydreaming.

It seemed her children had been keeping secrets about the extent of their...powers.

Dalia and Adam could do nothing but sit back in stunned silence and watch as the three children conversed about things the two adults could hardly believe and not possibly understand.

Hermione seemed reluctant to talk about herself at first, but after a few encouraging words from Harry and one or two sunlight smiles from Draco, she too admitted to being able to read other people's thoughts.

_Read other peoples thoughts. Control objects with their minds. Speak to animals._

"You can talk to cats! That's wicked!" Draco says, bouncing in his seat a little.

The children begin chattering even more excitedly, and it seems that Harry and Draco have been successful in their mission to make Hermione feel comfortable around them. Dalia is sure it won't last, and that soon Hermione will remember that her parents are dead, and feel all that horrible pain again. But for now she appears content to ignore it, and Dalia and Adam will deal with the fall out of that later.

Adam leans in close to Dalia then and whispers,

"What do you think, is this some kind of Hercules situation? Are we raising three mini Gods?"

Dalia almost snorts in derision at such a silly thought, but then she has to pause and consider it. Why shouldn't they be Gods? It makes about as much sense as anything.

"They could be aliens" Dalia suggests.

"Yeah, well, as long as the mother ship doesn't come back, then I'm good with that explanation" Adam replies quietly.

Dalia gives him a strained smile, which Adam returns.

"Do you think we can handle this?" She asks him hopefully.

Adam seems to consider that for a moment, his kind eyes thoughtful.

"I think we've been given an opportunity, by fate, God, the mighty Elf in the sky, whoever, to take care of three very special children. And I think we owe it to them, ourselves, and possibly the universe, to do the best that we can, and to be there for those three children, always"

Something inside Dalia hardens then, a determination she wasn't even aware of rises up within her like a phoenix rising from its ashes. Adam is right, no matter how insane all of this is, she wouldn't wish it away for anything.

"We can do this" she says firmly, nodding to herself more than Adam. Her eyes stray to the children, who are now practically whispering to each other earnestly. Hermione seems to be talking the most forcefully, whilst Draco chatters boldly, grinning all the time, with Harry occasionally speaking in way that causes the other two to pause and listen intently.

Oh yes, it's clear as day who their leader is going to be.

Adam catches Dalia's eye and holds out his hand to take hers, she allows him to lock their fingers together.

"Together, yeah" Adam whispers.

Dalia understands, and agrees,

"Together"

_Apart we kneel. Apart we fall. Apart we are one. But together we stand._


	2. Mismatched Birthdays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)

_19th September 1990_

Dumbledore smiles slightly to himself. He's finally found them. Him.  _Harry Potter_.

Living in Bristol. Along with two other magical children. One of whom is a Black, Narcissa  _Black_ 's son.

Of course he'd read the letter she sent to him almost 7 years ago. The day she stepped off Malfoy Manors highest balcony, and fell to her death. A letter, that asked Albus to look out for her son, Draco, when he came of the age to attend Hogwarts.

He had wondered  **why**. About many things. Why did she insist Draco should only ever know the name 'Black'? Why would she rather send him to live in the muggle world than raise him herself? Narcissa Malfoy was a Pureblood, and such things should have been impossible for her to comprehend, let alone actually  _do_.

But, for whatever reason, Narcissa had chosen give up every single one of the beliefs that had been installed in her from birth. So that her son could grow up blissfully unaware of his legacy, and of magik itself. Allowing him to grow up not being raised as a proper Pureblood.

At the time, Dumbledore could not imagine what reason would be great enough, for a lady such as Narcissa, to do something so drastic.

At first he had reasoned that it might have been grief over losing her Husband, Lucius Malfoy, who had been sent to Azkaban earlier on that year, after being found guilty of working willingly for Voldemort. But Albus had discarded that notion after a time. Pureblood's are taught to carry on, even in the face of shame and tragedy. And Narcissa was not a weak minded woman.

No, it would have to have been something else. Something darker. Something she couldn't tell anyone. A secret. Not that that's much of a surprise. All Pureblood families have secrets.

However, Dumbledore had a feeling that Narcissa Malfoy's secret was bigger than any other he had encountered in a long time.

It took him years to figure out the truth. Years to finally see why Draco Black needed hiding in the first place. Dumbledore had to see the boy, see his eyes, feel the magik within him. Magik that Dumbledore saw is almost consumed by darkness. Dark power. He only had to see the mark over the boy's heart to finally understand.

Draco Black is a shadow master. Having the ability to control and manipulate shadows, and therefore the darkest part of one's soul. It is a hereditary….gift. Passed from father to son every five generations. And only one other person in the last five hundred years was born with that ability.

But then, unlike his biological father, who Albus had known as a child and could recognize the darkness for what it is because of that, Draco Black's magik is not fully dark. Within the boy's magik, there are glitters of gold that spark like lightening during a storm. His magik creates the illusion of a sky full of stars.

Dumbledore has never seen anything quite like it.

That is to say nothing of Harry Potter's own magik, which is also touched with darkness. But he was not born with that darkness the way Draco was, therefore the darkness only encompasses strands of it, like strips of dark silk over a sparkling sea.

Dumbledore spent years searching for the Harry, having been astonished by Petunia Dursey's choice to apparently turn her own nephew away, and then banish the memory of her sister from her mind.

He could not have imagined that Harry would be in Bristol, being raised by a young muggle woman by the name of Dalia St. Clair.

Both Harry and Draco are powerful Lord-level wizards in the making, that much became clear to Dumbledore just by feeling the intensity of their magik around them. It will be interesting to see which element lies in wait within their core.

The girl, Hermione Granger, a muggleborn witch, is powerful in her own right. Although the strength of her magik does not match that of Harry and Draco's, her control is clearly superior and much more advanced than an average person's would be at her age.

Together the three of them could become a formidable force. One day.

Dumbledore sets himself the task of making sure that the three children become knights for the good of wizard-kind, and not warriors of the dark.

* * *

** Hermione's P.O.V **

"I am going to kill you Drake!" I yell, chasing after my moron of a best friend.

"Bring it on Hermon!" Draco calls back, speeding up a little when I swipe at his back, trying to grab his shoulder.

I growl in frustration. Stupid idiot boy!

Draco thought it would be a great idea to wake me up,  _on my birthday_ , by throwing a bucket of ice cold water over me. Prat. He can be so annoying sometimes, always running around and causing trouble. Personally I don't think he even tries most of the time. Trouble just follows that boy around.

Adam says the same thing, he's my Godfather. I really like Adam, he's very nice to pretty much everyone, and he's an amazing cook. Adam became my legal guardian when I was eight, because both my parents died in a car accident when we were on our way home from a party.

It had been dark, and the road was slippery from heavy rain. My dad never saw that truck coming.

I miss my parents a lot sometimes, but after four years I can't imagine not living with Dalia and Adam. And of course my best friends, Harry and Draco.

As each year goes by I forget more and more about my parents, and memories of them are replaced by memories of my time here with Adam and our weird little family. It makes me feel guilty to think that one day I might barely remember them at all.

I spoke to Dalia about it once, she that she felt the same way about her parents when they died. But that over time she realised she didn't have to remember them inside her head all of the time, because they would always be in her heart. She told me that just because I don't remember everything about my parents, that doesn't mean I love them any less.

Dalia can be a bit strict sometimes, but she's always understanding and patient, especially when it comes to the topic of mine, Harry and Draco's parents.

I pause suddenly, knowing full well that Draco will always out run me. He may look delicate, but he's actually more like a vicious little fox and is almost impossible to catch.

Instead I search my brain for another way to take the idiot down. I smile when an idea pops into my head. The carpet near the top of the stairs is ripped a little, if I were to lift it at the right moment, then Draco would fall flat on his face.

Brilliant.

Good thing Harry's been helping me out with my telekinesis ability. Telekinesis is the mental ability to move objects with one's mind. I looked it up. No one else ever thinks to do that, they're all just happy to go along with it and not know. But I like finding out the right terms, it just makes sense, I don't understand why anyone would be ignorant about things on purpose.

It's silly, especially as there are so many books out there to learn things from. There's really no excuse for being stupid these days. I said that to my teacher in school, and she sent me to the Headmistresses office. It's not my fault if she doesn't know the right answers and I do, you'd think she'd be grateful to me for helping her, but nope, suddenly I have an 'attitude problem'.

Harry has the same issue in school. People think he's scary because of the way he acts sometimes, but really he's just different to everyone else. He's smarter than the other kids, and he looks at the world in a different way to how they do. Apart from Draco and me, he mostly just likes his own company, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

We can't all be a social butterfly like Draco. He's friends with pretty much everyone, and all the other children, and a lot of adults too actually, think he's amazing. But at the end of the day Draco would still rather be with me and Harry, than anyone else.

Harry was the one who helped me develop my telekinesis, because it used to be really hard for me. I didn't even know we could do that until Harry showed me. But then, I'm better at reading minds than either of them. Draco's the best at getting into people's dreams, he's even started being able to change them a bit. We tested it out on Adam, changing his dream about being a pirate captain into a nightmare where a kraken was trying to eat him.

Adam woke up in a cold sweat, yelling out 'get those suckers away from me!'. It was pretty funny at the time. But Dalia was furious. She said our abilities aren't an excuse for us to hurt or torment other people.

I felt pretty guilty about that, but not as much as Draco, who spent the next two months refusing to use his abilities at all. Draco hates the idea of people being hurt because of him, he likes helping make others happy, and he always tries to be kind to everyone.

Even, as Harry sometimes says, to people who don't deserve it.

Draco doesn't realise I've stopped running until it's too late. I concentrate all my energy on that little strip of carpet, and  _will_  it to pull up. I worry for a moment that it won't work, but then something clicks inside my head, and the broken carpet flips upwards. It catches Draco's foot and sends him sprawling to the floor.

Draco lands with a loud thud, and makes a grunting sound of pain.

Ha!

I race up to him, and just as he turns himself over onto his back, I throw myself down onto his stomach, officially pinning him.

The air whooshes out of Draco's lungs and he gasps out,

"Cor, blimey, Hermon, get off"

I pretend to think about it, rubbing my chin,

"Hmmm, nope"

Draco attempts to free himself,

"You are so heavy, how much do you  _weigh_?" Draco groans incredulously.

I pinch his arm really hard, causing him to start struggling again,

"Shut up, Drake, I am not heavy, you're just a little weakling"

"Am not!" Draco snaps back.

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too, like a little baby bunny rabbit"

"At least my hair doesn't have ADHD"

"You don't even know what that means!"

"Yes I do, Calum Morris, in year five, has it. He told me what it means! So there!"

"You're still an idiot"

"You're still a know it all"

"You threw cold water all over me!"

"You're SITTING ON ME!"

"Moron!"

"Bossy pants"

"Winger!"

"Fuzzy head!"

"I see that you two are getting along well today" Harry drawls from the doorway of his room. He's leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed, an ebony eyebrow arched. He has his trademark look of 'you are all completely ridiculous' on his face.

"Bolt, Hermon is sitting on me" Draco says huffily.

Harry's expression does not change one iota,

"Yes, I can see that."

"Well don't rush to help me or anything" Draco replies sarcastically.

Harry smirks,

"Don't worry, I won't"

I can't help but laugh at that. Harry loves Draco, more than anyone else in the world, that much has always been obvious. But he doesn't let him get away with being a prat either. He'd take his side in any fight, but in private he would still call Draco out on his behavior.

But then, we've all agreed to put on a united front. As far as we're concerned, Harry, Draco and I are the only people in the world like us, whether that's true or not doesn't really matter if we don't  _know_  any of the possible 'others'. We need to stick together, always, no matter what.

Dalia and Adam have been supportive of that line of thinking, if only so we'll have each other; people who will understand all the weirdness.

My parents knew, or at least they knew I was different. They encouraged me to embrace it, and Adam and Dalia have done the same with all three of us. I'm glad we have them, they're good guardians. I'm not sure if I'm ready to call them 'parents' yet. At least not until they finally get together properly. You'd have thought over ten years in a house together would have been enough, but apparently some people are just THAT clueless.

Even Draco's noticed the way they feel about each other, and he's the most oblivious person in the universe. If anyone ever falls in love with Draco, they're going to have to spell it out for him, because he'll never figure it out on his own. All the girls in school follow him around cooing like little birds, mooning after him, and he just thinks they're being 'nice'.

Because, as I already stated, he's a big idiot.

Girls would follow Harry around too, but his intimidating nature puts them off. I can only be grateful that at least one of my friends is too smart to get stalked without even realising it.

Harry looks me up down speculatively and sighs,

"He threw water on you, huh"

I sigh right back,

"Yeah, pretty much"

Harry smiles a little,

"Happy Birthday"

I give him a stony look,

"Shut up HP"

"I love you too, HG" Harry replies nonplussed.

"I heard thumping and shouting about ADHD, you three better not be fighting up there" Dalia calls upstairs from the kitchen.

"The THREE of us aren't" Harry calls back.

"Good, then get down here, we need to leave before ten to beat the traffic into town" Dalia replies, not sounding like she believes a word, but willing to let it go, probably because it's my birthday.

Harry and Draco are already dressed, so they go downstairs as I go to get ready.

When I get downstairs, Dalia and Adam immediately come over to give me a hug each. Adam holds me tight for a moment and whispers,

"Happy birthday baby girl"

When he lets go, Dalia swoops in for an even longer hug.

"Happy Birthday sweet heart!" Dalia says, smiling at me like I'm made of pure sunlight.

"Thank you" I smile back at my guardians.

"Come on then, you lot, have some breakfast quickly so that we can get going" Dalia claps her hands at us.

Adam's eyes fill with humour as he says,

"Calm down, Lia, the zoo is open all day, we'll get there"

Dalia slaps Adam on the shoulder with her spatula,

"Yes, but if we want to get there in time to see everything, then we have to leave early. Now hurry up or I'll leave you behind, you have ten minutes"

I head over to the table and sit down, pouring myself some cereal. Without me having to ask, Harry hands me the milk and Draco grabs me a spoon. I thank them both and start eating. Dalia isn't messing around, she'll leave in ten minutes, whether we're all ready or not.

"I can't wait to see all the wild animals, it's gonna be totally wicked" Draco says excitedly, already bouncing in his seat. Sometimes it's like he's on a permanent sugar high. that's why Dalia won't let him have too many sweets. Last year, at Easter, he ate so much chocolate that he was practically climbing up the walls. He levitated the dining room table whilst he was still sat on it, and when he laughed, all the lights, including the street lights, exploded. It was mental. Dalia was very careful with him after that.

"I really want to see the big cats, you know they have a tiger there now" I say, my own excitement evident in my voice. I can speak and understand cats you see, and I've always wondered if that only stretched towards normal house cats, or if I could actually communicate with bigger cats as well.

Draco and I look at Harry, waiting to see if he'll admit to anything. That's the thing with Harry, you have to wait and be patient, otherwise you might miss it. He doesn't say too much about what he wants, or what he thinks. But sometimes he'll let stuff slip out, you just have to listen for it.

"I would very much like to visit the reptile house" Harry murmurs thoughtfully, not lifting his eyes to meet either of ours, instead looking forwards, as if into the distance.

Draco raises an eyebrow at me and I shrug.

"You'll probably end up helping a snake to escape the zoo" I mutter. It sounds just like something Harry would plan in advance, but only if he also had a way of making it look like an accident.

Harry smirks at me then, his emerald eyes practically glittering,

"They have a Boa constrictor"

"Boa constrictors can grow up to 13 feet in length, and they can be found from northern Mexico to Argentina." I impart.

Harry gives me an amused look, but all he does is nod,

"Yes, I've read that somewhere too"

Draco is the one who pokes my shoulder and says,

" _Why_  do you even know that?"

I sniff at him,

"I _like_  knowing things"

Draco gets this teasing expression on his face, and I know he's about to call me a 'know it all' or a 'major keener', or something else insulting. I hope the wild animals at the zoo eat him.

But then Harry reaches over and places a hand on Draco's shoulder, he squeezes once, and Draco immediately snaps his attention away from me and over to Harry. Their gazes hold for a few very long seconds, then Draco sighs and his shoulders sag. He smiles apologetically at me and goes on to continue eating his breakfast without saying another word.

Harry removes his hand, a look of extreme satisfaction flashing in his green eyes, before the usual emotionless mask he wears takes over again.

If I didn't know and love them, even I would think they were weird. But since I've been observing their behavior towards each other for over four years now, it doesn't even register as at all strange to me when they do stuff like that.

I know other children, and adults, sometimes notice how they touch and look at each other, and I understand why it seems odd to them. But I don't think it's something to scorn either. They're just really close friends, there's nothing wrong with that.

The whole 'lightning bolt scar being connected to the skull-snake birth mark' thing; now that's a little freaky. I don't mean that in a nasty way, in fact, I find it kind of fascinating. I figure it must have something to do with what we are, or where our abilities came from. It would be so amazing to know why we're so different to everyone else, but I don't know if we'll ever find out.

I get pretty frustrated about that sometimes, but Harry always says that one day we'll be old enough to look into things ourselves, without Adam and Dalia's help, and then maybe we'll find something. He said a whole new world might be waiting for us out there somewhere, we just have to find it. I cling to that idea as much as possible, because I have to believe he's right or I'll go mad.

I ponder that thought for a while as I eat my breakfast.

Ten minutes later, Dalia rounds us all up like we're baby chickens or something, and shoo's us into Adam's car. It's a bright aqua colour, almost brand new, and has nice blue leather seats. Dice hang around the rear view mirror.

Dalia calls it his quarter life crisis car.

Adam calls it his schmooze machine.

He also argued with Dalia when she said it was a stupid thing to buy, by saying that both of them having a car would make it easier for them to transport us around and get to work and the shops, without them having to share just one car all the time.

When Adam first brought it home, Draco whispered to us that it looks like a pimp's car. Harry and I didn't know what that meant. Draco didn't know either, he just heard one of the older children from Hollows House say it. I asked my teacher what a pimp's car is. I got sent to the headmistress's office again.

And I  _still_ don't know what it means.

Dalia said I would understand when I was older. Adam said I bloody well wouldn't if he has anything to say about it. Dalia then pointed out that it was his new car that caused the problem in the first place. Adam didn't say anything after that.

Harry laughed for ages about it, and then told me and Draco that Adam may have won the battle, but Dalia had definitely won the war. Again. Poor Adam.

When we get to the zoo, despite Dalia telling us to stay close to her and Adam, we end up splitting away from our guardians and making our way through the zoo by ourselves. Dalia gave us a meeting up point, just in case.

"Can we please go see Benji the elephant first?" Draco asks, looking so excited right now that I'm afraid he might hurt himself.

Harry smiles fondly at Draco and then gives me a questioning look, to make sure I don't mind. I nod back at him, it really doesn't matter where we start, I just want to learn more about all the animals.

"Alright then, lets go" Harry leads the way, as always.

I'm not sure how it happened, if I'm honest, but somehow Harry ended up being the leader of our little group. It's not something I have a problem with, or can actually explain, it just kind of...is. That's how we are. Harry is the leader. I'm the smart one (obviously). And then Draco, and it hurts me even to think this, is the brave one. As annoying as he can be, I know he'd never back down if it meant helping someone else. He's still an idiot though.

One thing I think we all have in common, however, is our stubbornness. For example. I'm stubborn about facts. Harry is stubborn about secrets. Draco is stubborn about being kind. Seriously, there's no way I'll ever compromise on something unless I know for sure it's true, and Harry would never tell anyone a secret unless he had no other option, and Draco is a vegetarian. He announced his vegetarian status when he was nine, stating that eating animals just because they can't negotiate their way out it like humans can, is cruel and wrong. That just kind of says it all really.

A few hours later I'm standing outside the tiger habitat. The tour guide has just told me everything I think I'll ever need to know about a tiger. My constant questions may have helped.

Draco and Harry stand on either side of me, trying to help me spot the tiger through all the trees and plants. I told them about my secret interest in finding out if I can talk to wild cats as well as domestic ones. Harry was all for it, always willing to test out our abilities to their limits. Draco just wants to see me talk to a tiger, he's easily pleased that way.

I start to get a little over excited, and as usual when I get a bit too excited, or nervous, I begin slamming down facts,

"The roar of a Bengal tiger can carry for over 2km at night. As well as game animals, it preys on wild boar, monkeys, lizards and occasionally porcupines. Unlike other cats, tigers are good swimmers and often cool off in lakes and streams during the heat of the day." And yes, I definitely sped up near the end there, barely able to contain the knowledge inside my head.

Harry gives me that small smile of his again,

"Good to know. If I'm ever being chased by a tiger, I'll be sure not to try and escape by attempting to out-swim it"

I smile sweetly at him

"You're welcome, snarky"

Draco raises an eyebrow at me thoughtfully,

"How do you know all that?"

I roll my eyes at him,

"The guide just said it ten minutes ago"

"How the flip did you remember all of it?" Draco asks incredulously.

I nudge him,

"Drake, just because you have the attention span of a gnat, that doesn't mean we all do"

"Harsh" Draco mutters.

"But fair" Harry adds.

We lapse into silence again, until Harry suddenly turns to me and points out the prowling tiger, that is now coming towards us!

Draco looks at me seriously and says,

"Could you ask him if he would consider a vegetarian alternative?"

"No" I answer firmly.

"Why not?" Draco demands.

"Because he's a tiger, Drake"

"So?"

"So I'm not asking a tiger to eat tofu"

"But-"

"Dragon, just let it go" Harry says with a sigh.

Draco gets this steely look in his strange eyes, the black ring within his iris crackling with emotion,

"No way! Tofu is perfectly capable of supplying any creatures need for the right vitimins. An animal doesn't have to die for it. I refuse to accept that just because eating meat is the  _easiest_  thing to do, that it's what we  _should_  do. Imagine, next time you're eating a big hunk of fleshy burger, that some poor cow DIED for, that that cow was someone's mother, or brother, or best friend. We cannot go on killing animals, who did nothing to deserve it. We have to fight for them, because they can't fight for themselves!"

Ah, here we go, Draco Black, defender of the innocent. Saviour of cow-kind everywhere. Remind me to never say that to his face, he'd probably just use it as his campaign platform, and kick off a vegetarian revolution, or something equally as horrifying.

I wait until the tiger is close enough to the thick glass wall, before looking directly into it's eyes and saying in the same language I use to speak with normal cats,

_"Hello, can you understand me?"_

The tiger eyes me blankly for a moment, and I begin to feel disappointment settle in my chest. But then the tiger tilts his head slightly to the left and moves closer to me,

_"Yes."_

I feel the sudden urge to clap like a demented seal with happiness, but manage to curb the need. Draco and Harry notice the grin on my face, and both of them lean in closer to observe me converse with the tiger.

 _"What's your name?"_  I ask.

The tiger looks me up and down with big golden eyes, seemingly contemplating whether to answer my question or not.

_"Zlato, what is your name, little human?"_

_"Hermione"_ I reply readily, and then gesture at the two boys who are watching me in fascination,  _"And this is Harry and Draco"_

 _"You all look so different, are you from the same litter?"_ Zlato asks, sounding a bit confused. Or as confused a tiger  **can**  sound.

I shake my head,

_"No, they're just my best friends, but….we're part of the same.."_

_"Streak?"_ (A streak is the name for a group of tigers by the way, like a pride of lions, or a pack of wolves.)

_"Uh, yes, sort of"_

_"My streak is still in India"_

_"Oh, I'm so sorry"_

"What's he saying?" Draco asks.

"He's talking about his family" I reply.

"This is  _so_  wicked" Draco smiles manically at me.

I carry on talking to Zlato for a while, Harry and Draco occasionally providing questions for me to ask. But eventually Zlato has to go and eat his lunch. I valiantly refused to ask him what his meal would consist of when Draco demanded I do so.

Draco then went on another rant about meat being murder, and how we should all be worried for our immortal souls, because Jesus would so have been a vegetarian if such a thing had existed back then, and didn't we want to be like Jesus.

Harry replied that Jesus doesn't exist, and that even if he did, he would not have wasted time eating tofu when he was so busy conducting miracles.

I interrupted what was about to become a ridiculous argument, by suggesting that we move on to another part of the zoo. I say goodbye to Zlato and promise to visit him soon.

The rest of the day can be represented in bullet point form. Honestly, it's too impossibly mad to explain in detail.

-Dalia and Adam brought a few pretty cupcakes out for my birthday, each with 'Happy B-day Hermione' iced onto them during lunch.

-Harry went to visit the snakes.

-Draco spent an hour watching the komodo dragon with almost worrying fascination.

-Even more worrying, the komodo dragon watched him right back with  _equal_  fascination.

-I went to see a few of the other big cats. Including a lion named Dave (Did you know that Lions are the only big cats to live in groups, called prides? Prides are close family groups. They work together to defend territory and hunt.)

-Harry 'liberated' the boa constrictor using his abilities. Not that he'd ever admit it, he was with Draco and I when the announcement was made over the tannoy, but I knew by the way he was smirking that he definitely did it.

-Draco almost lost his mind over the penguins.

-Draco snuck into the penguin exhibit.

-Draco made friends with a penguin.

-We got halfway home before we realised Draco had taken a penguin egg.

-Dalia shouted at Draco for almost an hour.

-Draco made a speech to the zoo police entitled 'Freedom for the penguins!

-The speech had been written a week before.

-Which means stealing the penguin egg had apparently been pre-meditated.

-We found out that Adam helped write 'the speech'.

-He said he hadn't thought Draco was serious.

-Dalia shouted at Adam for two hours.

-Harry asked me if I felt left out because I was the only one who hadn't tried to free an animal.

-I told him to bugger off.

-I am secretly annoyed that I  _do_  actually feel left out.

Conclusion: My family is insane.

Revised conclusion: I am insane.

* * *

_25th December 1990_

**Harry's P.O.V**

It's Christmas. And my birthday. Sort of.

Since Dalia has no idea when my real birthday is, we basically just go from the day she found me. In some ways it makes even more sense than my actual birthday, because I began a whole new life when Dalia adopted me.

I don't worry too much about the facts in regards to who I was all those years ago, I know who I am now, and that's what really matters, to both myself and those I care about. I'll admit there aren't many people in this world I like, let alone love. Namely just Dalia, Adam, Hermione and…Draco.

I was found by Dalia on Christmas day, so we make it sort of a duel celebration. Not many children can say their birthdays have been Christmas themed. It was Adam's idea to do it that way. But it wasn't until Draco and Hermione started the tradition of calling me JJ (i.e. Jesus jr), that it became something more. We treat Christmas basically like the most important day of the year.

Being at our house on Christmas day is definitely an…experience, lets put it that way and leave it there for now.

But the really interesting news is that Dalia and Adam have finally stopped being ridiculous and are together properly. Or at least they will be by the end of today.

Our Guardians tried to keep the knowledge of their 'secret' relationship hidden from Hermione, Draco and I. They failed, spectacularly.

We saw them kissing. In the kitchen. During the day.

I was almost worried for them, thinking that they might need some pointers on what keeping something secret actually entails. Basically, don't do something obvious pertaining to that secret, in a place that is not at all surreptitious, and at a time when the people you're trying to hide it from could easily walk in and see you doing the obvious thing in the place that is not discreet in the slightest.

And yet Adam was surprised when we later ambushed him and asked about his intentions towards our Dalia.

Adults, honestly, I swear puberty must knock out a few brain cells or something.

Dalia still doesn't know that we know though, and that's all part of the plan. Adam was conflicted, but after some prompting, he told us about the ring he's been carrying around for months. Draco, Hermione and I decided between us that Christmas day would be the perfect time for Adam to ask Dalia to marry him.

After his shocking lack of secret keeping skills, (I mean we didn't even have to resort to torture or anything) Adam was given no choice in the matter.

Draco wakes me up at three o' clock in the morning on Christmas day, and climbs into bed with me, just like he does every year.

He only narrowly misses Dalia, who I know comes into my room every year at around two o' clock (the estimated time she found me) and kisses my forehead, whispering, "You are the best thing that ever happened to me". It's the same every Christmas day. I haven't ever told her that I've always been awake for it, because it seems like a private ritual that should belong only to her.

Draco moves as close to me as he possibly can and rests his head on my chest, his arm slung over my waist. I hold him to me and stroke his silky hair gently, focusing mostly on the lone thick strip of black that goes from root to tip. I curl the ends of his hair around my fingers.

We never really talk when we do this. That's not what this is about. It's just his time with me on my birthday, a time when we can be together just the two of us and simply…be. I suppose we could theoretically do it every night, but that's not the point.  _This_  is special. _This_  is important.  _This_  is  _ours_.

Our time. Our moment.

Hermione is my best friend, and I love her, obnoxiousness and all. But Draco is the only one who knows all my secrets. He's the only one who really, truly, understands me. I can't just call him my best friend because that's not a big enough word for what he is to me. I'd call him my brother, but that doesn't exactly feel right either.

Maybe I'll figure it out someday. But right now what I call him doesn't matter. The fact that Draco and I are connected has always been the one thing in life that makes sense. He knows. And I know. That's enough. It  _has_  to be.

"Happy Christmas Birthday, Bolt" Draco whispers, his voice like tinkling bells to my ears.

I find myself smiling in a way that I only do when I'm alone with Draco,

"Merry Birthday Christmas, Dragon"

…..

We open presents first, which basically means a stack of books a mile high for Hermione from Dalia and Adam. However Draco and I decided to do something a little different this year and instead of buying her a book each, we pooled our saved pocket money together and adopted Zlato the tiger for her. Hermione now has a certificate officially saying that Zlato 'belongs' to her, a care package including pictures, posters and a map of a tigers habitat in the wild ect, and a stuffed tiger teddy.

"Thank you so much! This is really amazing!" Hermione reads over the paperwork for the billionth time practically.

We went back to the zoo, and they actually let us in, which was a miracle because there had been talk of a lifetime ban for Draco.

Draco had responded by writing a letter to the CEO of the company who own the zoo, detailing his reasoning behind taking the penguin egg. It was basically a sixteen page rant. Hermione helped him write it, mostly, I think, because she wanted a chance to use the legal jargon she'd learned from when she read that 800 page book about law. She started reading the book when our school 'threatened' to cancel the end of year tests. She wanted to find a way to sue them for robbing us of our right to take exams. Exams that, according to Hermione, could end up affecting our whole future.

I was the one who suggested that Draco mention in the letter that he might end up going to the press, to make people aware that the zoo was banning a child just because he wanted to save animals. I was sure that would go over quite well.

The CEO's lackey apparently called the zoo and told them not to ban Draco as long as he agreed never to talk to any reporters.

Make of that what you will.

After Christmas dinner, cooked exclusively by Adam, they bring out a birthday cake and sing the usual song. A song that Draco calls 'Happy Bristmas'.

It goes like this,

"Happy Christmas day to you

Happy Christmas day to you

Happy Christmas day to JJ

Happy Christmas day to you!"

I know it's pretty silly, but it's just what we do.

Another tradition of ours is to go ice skating in the park. Every year since I was five they've set up a massive ice skating rink at our local park. We put our proposal plan into action as soon as we arrive.

I manage to convince the Christmas band who are playing on a stage facing the ice rink to play Adam and Dalia's favourite song. I do this mostly by waving Draco in front of them who I told to speak like a baby and look adorable. Hermione is off talking to the firework people about when they'll actually be setting off the fireworks. We want to get the timing of it perfect.

We've only given Adam one job: Propose to Dalia when we make the signal.

Sounds easy, right? Well that's just because you don't know Adam. Knowing our luck, he'll probably propose to the wrong girl by accident, or fall flat on his face mid proposal.

But when the time does come, and I make the signal (saluting with two fingers), everything goes off without a hitch. The band's leader makes the announcement that someone (Adam) has a very important question to ask. A hush falls over the crowd as Adam and Dalia's song begins to play. Adam has even managed to get Dalia out into the middle of the ice rink in time.

Adam takes a stunned Dalia's hand and gives his proposal speech, that Hermione and Draco insisted they help him with.

"Lia, we've known each other for over ten years now, and I can honestly say that I thank the universe every single damn day for allowing me the honour of knowing you. I wouldn't be the man I've become if it wasn't for you, you've made me a better man, just by existing in my life. We both grew up without a family, and I never thought I'd get to have my own, because I didn't think I was capable of it. But you showed me, through your strength and through your unconditional love for our three, very unique, children, that we could build our own family. What we have together, it may not be ordinary, but it feels pretty extraordinary to me. I've loved you for so long now that I can't even remember what it felt like not to be completely in love with you. And I never want to  _stop_  loving you. So, what I'm trying to say is..."

As Adam goes down on one knee, Dalia blinks out of her awestruck gaze, and begins to frantically search the crowd around her. When Dalia's gaze lands on me, I see the question in her eyes. I don't hesitate in her giving her my answer: I nod and allow her to see how much I want this for her in my eyes. I don't usually let that much emotion show, but this once I'll make an exception. For Dalia, my Dalia. My mum.

Dalia smiles at me, a look of pure love on her face. But then she turns back to Adam, and that look changes, the love is still strong, but it's a different kind of love.

Adam is staring up at Dalia, like she is everything. Like she's his world, his universe, the one person he will always love for the rest of his life.

"Dalia St. Clair, will you marry me?"

I hear Hermione squeal beside me, and I can practically feel the energy pouring off Draco in waves. My scar buzzes a little when he shifts closer to me. It's still not an unpleasant feeling, in fact it's something I've gotten used to, because it means Draco is near me.

"Yes, of course I'll marry you!" Dalia throws herself at Adam, who catches her in his big arms.

Adam stands up still holding Dalia and spins her around and around on the ice. He finally settles her down, and they both laugh as Dalia tries to find her footing again. The whole crowd is applauding loudly, some people whistling and shouting out congratulations.

Adam kisses Dalia at the perfect moment, as just as his lips touch hers the fireworks begin shooting off into the sky.

I high five Draco and Hermione, both of whom are jumping up and down, clapping like mad.

As Adam slips the ring out of it's felt box and onto Dalia's finger, I wrap my arms around Draco and Hermione's shoulders. We group together, holding onto to each other as we see the beginning of a new chapter in our lives unfolding right in front of us.

In this moment, everything is perfect.

And yet, I can't shake the feeling that this is only the beginning. Have you ever heard of the expression 'the calm before the storm'?

Yeah well, I think this might be our calm. But, then, what will our storm be?

* * *

_31st July 1991_

**Draco's P.O.V**

"Draco, could you grab the post for me honey?" Dalia asks as she sets about washing the dishes from breakfast.

It's Saturday, so Adam doesn't have to be at work until five. He's sitting in the living room with Hermione, helping her set up the kitty castle bed for Cheshire cat, Hermione's new kitten. We found him last week, left to die in the gutters on our street. Hermione insisted we bring him home and pleaded with Dalia and Adam to let us keep him. I obviously helped by pointing out what cruel fate would befall the small black and white stripped kitten if we were to throw him out into the cold night.

Hermione, as usual, did not appreciate my help, and snapped at me not to be so bloody morbid. I don't see what's so morbid about cars running over cats, it happens all the time, which is why animals should have the same rights as human beings. I think anyone who kills an animal should be put in prison, simple as. Animals should have rights too. And the only reason they don't is because of some small minded ignorant tossers in the house of commons who simply refuse to take my letters seriously. I've written to them numerous times suggesting a new law must be passed to protect animals, just like Hermione's kitten, but they never write back anything substantial.

Harry is sitting at the kitchen table with his sketch pad, his face hard in concentration. I really love Harry's art work, although he'd hate for me to call it that. It's so beautiful though, it's like each line of coal or pencil tells a story. I think only great artists can create a hundred stories with just one picture. Harry likes to pretend he isn't really bothered, but I know he enjoys it, possibly more than almost anything else.

I always know where Harry is, you see. I'm always aware of him. It's been that way since the moment we met. Him and me. Me and him. We're connected. And I don't mean just because the birth mark over my heart tingles whenever he's close. I know we were meant to meet, we were always meant to be...together. Friends. Brothers. The other half of my soul. I don't care what you want to call it, because I don't think there's a word that exists that could possibly describe what we are to each other fully.

Harry said once that he and I are inevitable. I like that word. I like what it means. I like knowing that no matter what happens in the future, one thing will last forever. Because, like Harry said, me and him, are inevitable.

"Sure, Ma" I smile widely at her and she chuckles under her breathe.

I wonder out into the hall and grab up the post. I shift through a few bills, a letter from the council and...woah. What the...

Three strange letters.

Three letters, one addressed to me, one addressed to Harry and another identical one addressed to Hermione. The envelope is thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address is written in emerald-green ink.

For a moment I am frozen in place. For a moment nothing inside my head works properly. Then as the cogs begin to turn, I realise there's only one thing I can do.

"Bolt! Hermon! Come quick!" I call out for them, not really able to walk right now because I'm too busy staring at these letters. These impossible letters.

Harry and Hermione come running around separate corners, a look of concern on both their faces. They must have noted the panic in my voice, or maybe the shock lacing my tone.

I thrust the letters at them,

"Look...look, we have letters!"

Harry takes the one addressed to him and scrutinizes it carefully. He turns it over and traces his finger over it suspiciousy. Hermione takes hers as well and a look of pure wonder dawns over her expression.

"Should we open it?" Hermione says, still sounding a bit awestruck.

I dont know what we're all getting so excited about really, we don't have a clue what these letters actually say. Or where they're from.

But I  _know_ , some deep, dark, part of me knows it's got something to do with our abilities. What we are. The things we can do.

There's really no reason for it, I just know. I can feel it. And I can tell by the look in Hermione and Harry's eyes that they can feel it too.

Harry glances from me to Hermione and then back again,

"We should open them together" he says carefully, sounding more guarded than I've ever heard him before.

"On the count of three" I add quietly.

Harry and Hermione agree with a nod.

"One" Me.

"Two" Hermione

"Three" Harry.

All three of us rip open our own letter. It takes me a few seconds to read the words before me, and another few seconds for them to actually breach my understanding.

Flaming heck!

I read out loud just as Adam and Dalia come into view over Harry's head,

"Dear Draco Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts school of elemental Witchcraft and Wizardry..."

I trail off after that, because, blimey, that's mad enough as it is for a start.

" _Impossible_ " Hermione murmurs, but her eyes are bright with that same hopeful wonder.

Harry is still frowning thoughtfully, and I watch his face as he reads the letter over and over again.

"What have you got there?" I hear Adam ask.

"Either the meanest prank ever, or the answer to all the questions we never thought we'd know" I say, sounding a little distant even to my own ears.

Dalia and Adam read the the letters over our shoulders. Dalia gasps, a hand pressing to her mouth. Adam is frowning, a bit like Harry, and I almost make a joke about it, but I can't seem to get any words to come out of my face. My brain's pretty much paralyzed right now.

It's then that I hear a knock on the door, and a strange surge of electricity shoots through me. It's like a wave of pure sunlight descending over my whole body. It makes my insides shiver, and my birthmark practically hiss at the feeling.

Harry's body tenses up and his eyes shoot to the door. Hermione says,

"Did you two feel that?"

"Yes" Harry and I answer in unison.

Dalia coughs loudly, although it comes out sounding a little strangled. But she puts on that brave face I'm so used to seeing, and nods firmly,

"Now, there's no need to panic. I'm sure we can handle this, the same way we've handled everything else"

"You think?" Adam asks almost skeptically.

"One can only hope" Dalia mutters.

Dalia moves to answer the door, and Adam instinctively places himself protectively in front of Harry, Hermione and I. There's a fierce look on his face that I've only ever seen a couple times before. It's his 'nobody better mess with my babies or I will destroy them with the power of my glare' look.

I try to contain my gasp when the opened door reveals a truly strange looking man.

The man smiles and his blue eyes twinkle. Like, literally twinkle.

My stunned gaze meets Hermione's first and then Harry's. Harry looks even more suspicious, and his hand shoots out to grasp mine, not quite shoving me behind him, but the fierce brightness in his eyes tells me that he wants to. I do the same to Hermione, but I actually do pull her closer to me. She comes surprisingly easily, which can only mean that she's as freaked out as the rest of us and is trying not to show it.

Dalia appears equally as shocked, and stammers out,

"H-hello"

Sir twinkle smiles kindly at her, his gaze briefly sweeping over us, and I may be imagining it, but I swear it lingers on Harry for just a bit longer than the rest of us, and that it darkens a bit when landing on me.

"Hello, my name is Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, I have come to discuss the children, may I come in?"

Could this get any weirder?

...

I definitely spoke too soon.

Dalia had invited...Dumbledore in after a brief pause, during which she'd locked gazes with her fiance. Adam hadn't looked pleased about it, but he'd nodded and Dalia had stepped aside, gesturing for the strange man to enter our home.

Now we're all sitting around the kitchen table in silence, because really, how are we meant to start this kind of conversation? If there even is a conversation to be had.

"Can I get you a cup of tea?" Dalia asks, probably just to cut through the tension.

Twinkles smiles at her again and says,

"That is very kind of you, I'm alright for the moment, thank you"

Dalia smiles back stiffly, her hand wrapped up in both of Adam's. I can see the tension in her body, and it makes me a little worried. I hate the idea that Dalia is being made to feel uncomfortable in her own home, that's just not right.

I think Harry feels the same way, because he keeps staring at Dumbledore like he's about to kill us all. I know this must be hard for him, Harry really doesn't like being taken off guard, he prefers to know what the risks are before jumping into the fray.

Almost amusingly, it's Hermione who speaks first,

"Can you tell us... ...Sir...do you now what we are?"

Dumbledore's eyes fasten on Hermione for a moment, and his voice is bright and cheerful when he says,

"Oh, please dear, call me Dumbldore. And yes, of course I know what you are."

Well would you hurry up and tell us, because I'm not enjoying the tension floating around the room right now.

"You are a Witch, Miss Granger" Twinkles goes on, his eyes now flickering between me and Harry, "And young Mr. Potter and Mr. Black are Wizards"

"A Wiz-what?" It seems I have finally found my voice. Excellent.

"A Wizard and Witch are beings able to preform and manipulate Magik" Dumbledore addresses the answer to all of us.

A million questions explode inside my mind, and I can see clearly that Harry and Hermione are experiencing the same thing.

"Does that mean we aren't human?" Hermione asks dubiously.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkle almost harshly at that, which I'm guessing means he's amused. Well, I'm glad someone's having fun.

"Oh, you are quite human Miss Granger."

"Then why can't all people do what we can, if we're all just human?" I ask, leaning forward a bit.

Dumbledore eyes me for a moment, and again I see that twinge of uneasiness pass over his face. But it's gone in a instant, so I don't have time to properly analyse it. I think Harry must notice the look as well, because he seems to move closer to me, and his emerald eyes fill with something like carefully contained anger, or maybe just more protectiveness. It can be hard to tell with Harry sometimes, as he plays his emotions so close to the chest most of the time.

"Because most humans are Muggles" Dumbledore says simply. As if that makes sense.

"Uh, what are puggles  _exactly_?" Adam asks, sounding more confused than ever.

I find myself using humour to defuse some of the tension, whether it's a good idea or not,

" _Oh,_  is it like a mini puddle? Or a cluster of puddles?"

"No, a  _Muggle_  is a...non-magikal being" Dumbldore tries to explain.

Hermione makes a face,

" _Muggle_..huh, sounds a bit like an insult to me"

"Um…"

I slap my hand down onto the table and say,

"We better come up with an insulting word for magicians-"

"Wizards!"

I shrug,

"-yeah, those, just to make it fair"

"I don't believe that's necessary-"

"Oh, oh, how about Pointyhats!"

"I don't think-"

"Or Wand wagglers"

"We don't actually use wands-"

I hold both my hands up dramatically,

"Hang on, I've got it…Wazerds!"

"That is brilliant" Hermione says to me, nodding.

I smile smugly and cross my arms,

"I know"

I notice that Dalia and Adam are trying to hide their laughter, whereas Dumbledore is sitting there looking a little startled. I'm not sure if I should feel guilty or not for not taking this as seriously as I know I probably should be.

Alll traces of humour are sucked out of the room however, when Harry places his clasped hands on the table and says neutrally,

"What do you know about my parents?"

A great sadness fills Dumbledore's eyes then, and he watches Harry with so much sorrow and pity that I practically feel Harry recoil. Harry is not one to enjoy pity, not from anyone, especially not a stranger. He never made a fuss about being adopted, and it was only ever me he confided in about his secret wish to know more about his own parents. I think he didn't want to hurt Dalia by making it seem like she wasn't enough for him, and, if we're being honest, I also think he didn't want to admit to having any kind of weakness.

"Harry...your parent's names were Lily and James Potter. I feel I must tell you now, before anything else is said, your parents are famous in..our world. The magikal world.  _You_ , are famous."

"Are they really dead?" Harry asks, with that same neautral tone. Only I can hear the pain hidden under the coldness. I reach out and squeeze his leg, not wanting everyone else to know how difficult this is for Harry, because I know he wouldn't want that.

This pain is Harry's. It belongs to him, and only him. Dalia makes to get up and go over to Harry, but I shake my head at her, only slightly, but she understands. Harry doesn't need coddling right now, he needs space to think and breathe, otherwise things might start exploding.

"Yes, Harry, your parents are dead." Dumbledore breathes out heavily, and then continues, "But the reason they died, is what made them so famous"

Harry frowns at that,

"What do you mean?"

"There once was a Wizard, his name was Voldemort-"

Can I just interject right here to point out how stupid that name is? I mean, I know I'm not exactly one to talk, what with the whole 'Draco' thing, but still.

"-He believed that only...certain types of people should be able to study magik, and that Witches and Wizard's who are not Pureblood should be treated as lesser beings-"

Who was this bloke, Hitler's brother?

"-Voldemort established a group of followers called Death Eaters, all of whom served him as their Lord and master. A war began when Voldemort's hunger for power became even greater, between the Dark and the Light. It was more complicated than that, of course, but you see, your parents we're followers of the Light. Voldemort came to them one Halloween night, when you were only one year's old, and gave them a choice, join him, or he would kill them. Lily and James refused to give themselves over to the darkness, and so he murdered them using a very specific projection of magik, called a killing curse. They died to protect you, Harry. But then, when Voldemort tried to kill you...he couldn't. The curse rebounded off you and back at him. No one has ever survived the killing curse. No one except you. But that kind of dark magik always leaves some kind of mark-"

Dumbldore's eyes flicker up to Harry's forehead, and on impluse it seems, Harry lift his hand to touch his scar. The birthmark over my heart burns painfully, and I try to keep the pain off my face. This is Harry's moment, Harry's story, I refuse to ruin it just because of a simple burn.

"Yes Harry" Dumbledore continues, "Your scar. It is a mark that everyone in our world knows. It is the mark of the boy, who  _lived_ "

Yep, things just got weirder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank so much to EVERYONE who's reading this story, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, PLEASE let me know what you thought, even if it is only a word or two. Mental high five! xxx


	3. Family Ties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)

**Hermione's P.O.V**

"How does it work?" I ask, seeing the cold look on Harry's face become even more pronounced.

Obviously, this conversation is hurting him. He might not be showing it, but how could talking about your murdered parents NOT be upsetting? I can also see the way Draco is getting a bit defensive on Harry's behalf, which can only end badly.

The old….Wizard, Dumbledore, turns to me, that startling twinkling in his eyes makes me shift a bit in my seat.

"How does what work, Miss Granger?" he asks politely.

I pause for a second, momentarily thrown by having his full attention for the first time.

"Uh…I mean our abilities, what we can do. How does it work exactly?"

Dumbledore gives a small rumbling chuckle and says,

"I see you're one for asking the hard questions. Well, there are two parts to each individual's Magik. The first is the Magik that rests within your core. And the second is the Magik that lies inside your mind. A Witch or Wizard's core holds their fated element-"

"Element?" Draco interrupts, looking once again curious, "What do you mean by that?"

"As in the four elements" I say smartly, before Dumbledore can answer.

Harry sits forward, his face set in determination, having apparently shaken off his earlier feelings of grief for the parents he never knew, and will never get the chance to know.

"The four elements, as in 'Water, Fire, Air and Earth', yes?" Harry asks, although it sounds more like a statement with his matter of fact tone.

Dumbldore nods at the three of us,

"Yes. The four great elements are the cause for balance in our world. They ground each and every one of us. An element is now dormant inside your Magikal core, it was chosen by fate before you were born. But your element will only manifest and become active when you reach the age of eleven and go through the unlocking ceremony. Once your element is unlocked, you may begin training to control and manipulate that particular element"

I exchange glances with Draco and Harry,

"Unlocking ceremony?"

Yeah, even I agree that that sounds a bit on the dodgy side. Dalia and Adam seem to agree, from the twin looks of apprehension on both their faces.

"No need to worry" Dumbledore speaks soothingly, and it seems to entrance my Guardians, if nothing else.

Harry doesn't appear impressed, but then again, he looks upon most adults that way. It takes a lot to earn the respect of Harry. He's never rude or anything, and he hides it well when he  _really_  thinks someone's an idiot. I only notice it because I know him better than anyone else. Apart from Draco, obviously.

"The unlocking ceremony would be safely carried out within Hogwarts, as part of the sorting." Dumbledore continues to explain.

My head begins to spin. There are so many questions, and it seems the more Dumbledore tells us, the more questions there are to ask, instead of less. I don't know how to deal with being so in the dark. It's horribly unnerving.

From what Dumbledore is saying, it sounds like there really is a whole world full of people like me, Harry and Draco, out there. And they already know all this basic stuff. There are probably children our age who have known it for years. How are we supposed to study alongside children who must know so much more than we do already?

But then, that's if we decide to go to this school at all. I mean, I'm pretty sure Hogwarts is a boarding school, so we'd have to go live there for most of the year. We wouldn't be able to rely on Dalia or Adam, at least not for most things.

Of course, we'd have each other, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

"What about the other part of our abilities…the…'mind' part?" I ask carefully, not sure exactly how to word it.

Dumbledore's eyes rest on mine for a moment, and I steel myself, not willing to look away. I don't care who he is, or how powerful he feels, because what I'm feel emanating from him must be power, I will not allow myself to be intimidated.

"The Magik that resides inside your mind is something that many Wizards and Witches have questioned for thousands of years. There is no true answer that can be definitively proven. But the popular theory is that muggles only use a limited amount of their brain, whereas Wizards and Witches have the potential to use far more of it. Our minds are very powerful things, and it is believed that we have the capacity to control and manipulate every aspect of the world around us. Of course it takes a lot of training, concentration and hard work to develop such abilities"

We all seem to think about that for a long time. It's a lot to process. Dalia and Adam look almost ill, but I think that's merely the shock, this must be hard for them. For so long we've only been able to speculate at such things, and yet here we are now, actually finding out the truth of it all.

It must seem like so much insanity to them.

Harry is the first one to speak when he asks,

"Are our abilities linked in any way to our chosen element, or are they two completely separate entities?"

My eyes widen, and I sit forward in my seat eagerly, because that's a brilliant question. I really wish I'd thought of it.

Dumbledore smiles that disconcerting smile of his again, and I try to ignore how the power buzzing around us makes my skin tingle all over.

"Now that's another complicated question, and of course there are multiple theories for this as well. But it is widely believed that all Wizards and Witches have a basic set of abilities that can be used from birth, for example the ability to move object with ones mind. But when an individual develops the use of their element, other abilities do reveal themselves, and there are particular abilities that are specific to a certain element. For example, only someone who can manipulate Water can also use the compulsion ability"

Compulsion?

"Do you mean like mind control?" Draco asks, sounding both awed and appalled at the same time. I cannot imagine Draco ever condoning such a thing, and although I find the concept fascinating, I can't say I'm entirely comfortable with the idea either.

It's a certain level of control that no person should have.

Dumbledore nods in answer, his expression grave,

"Yes, compulsion is the ability to take over someone else's mind and control their actions and choices. But that is a very advanced skill that only the most determined of Water Wizards ever accomplish without incident"

"Without incident?" Dalia asks, her voice a bit high pitched, a clear sign that she is seriously stressed out right now.

Dumbledore turns to Dalia and replies in a quiet, careful tone,

"Magik, both mental and elemental, can be very dangerous if not treated with the proper respect. One must always be aware one's own power, otherwise there can be terrible consequences. The use of that kind of Magik is not a game, or something to be abused"

I notice a look come over Draco's face, and I assume he's remembering what he did to Adam by using his dream ability. I want to lean over and tell him that he didn't mean any harm to Adam, so therefore he shouldn't feel guilty for it. At least not after all this time.

But I don't want to draw that kind of negative attention to Draco, especially not in front of a stranger. Because that's what Dumbledore is, no matter what position he holds in his world, or that he's here to help us, he's still a stranger. And until he proves to us that he can be trusted, we will treat him as we would any stranger.

Dalia and Adam exchange what we children like to call, 'the parent look'. It means they're 'talking' about something and they don't want me, Harry and Draco to know about it. Harry always says that it would be a lot more effective if they stopped making it so bloody obvious when they're doing it.

I have to admit that he's got a point.

Finally, with a last nod at Adam, Dalia sits forward and places her hands in front of her on the table. She looks up at Dumbledore and says calmly,

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore, we appreciate you coming by in person to explain the situation to us. But at this point we would like some time to discuss things as a  _family_ "

Dalia emphasis the word 'family' with a bold look, and Adam sits forward to add,

"One more thing though, and really this is my own curiosity getting the better of me. Is being…a Witch or Wizard hereditary, because Hermione's parents….I swear they weren't…I mean...I went to school with them"

I feel a sudden air of weariness as I look back over at Dumbledore. I hadn't even considered my parents being like me, I'd just assumed. But now the question seems obvious. How can I be what I am if my parents were muggles?

Dumbledore explains patiently,

"There are children who are born with Magik who have Muggle parents. We mostly think that those children have an ancestor who was a Wizard or Witch at some point in their family tree. Children, such as Miss Granger, are what we refer to in our world as Muggleborns. Some Witches and Wizards have only one Magikcal parent, and they are Half-blood's. Then of course old Magikal families are Pureblood's"

Adam frowns a bit,

"Sounds a lot like a class system to me"

Dumbledore pauses, his expression thoughtful for a moment, before replying,

"No. Legally, for the most part, all Witches and Wizards are treated as equals, no matter what their blood legacy is."

"That's what Voldemort wanted to change wasn't it" Harry says, sounding honestly interested for the first time, and fiercely angry, "He wanted to make it so that Pureblood's were in control and had the most power. He believed that being Pureblooded makes you superior"

Dumbledore seems slightly stunned, but not enough to chase that twinkle out of his eyes. He appears to examine Harry for a while.

"Yes, Mr. Potter . Voldemort did believe those things. He began a war because of those beliefs"

"That's ** _awful_** " Draco suddenly blurts out, and there's so much feeling in his voice that we all stop and turn to stare at him. His pretty face is set in a firm scowl, and he looks right at Dumbledore as he says, "You can't treat people like they're inferior just because of who their family is. That kind of judgmental attitude is just wrong."

Although I completely agree, I know something like this would particularly annoy Draco, who has always believed in fairness and equality. He almost blew a gasket once last year when a man at the till in the Supermarket refused to serve someone because that person was black. Adam only just managed to stop Draco from making some kind of grand speech over the tannoy system by picking him up and literally dragging him away.

Of course he turned that experience into an end of term project at school, and insisted that he conduct an assembly dedicated to equal rights and the consequences of modern day ignorance. I was in full support, helping him by setting up the slide show and statistics presentation. Harry helped too by bringing in a local news crew and writing to several newspapers, including the Guardian. I have no idea what Harry wrote in those letters, but every single newspaper sent at least one person.

In the end Draco's assembly, including his carefully crafted speech, was quite severely mad. And strangely inspiring at the same time. Although I think that pretty much sums up Draco's entire personality.

Wacky and wonderful, that's what Dalia always says. Harry and I have both agreed on numerous occasions that it definitely fits.

I ask Dumbledore, before either Harry or Draco can get any more furious,

"So then, I'm a Muggleborn Witch, and if I want to learn more about the things I can do, then I have to go to Hogwarts, the school you are headmaster of. Does that about sum it up?"

The amusement in Dumbledore's eyes is pronounced when he answers,

"Yes, Miss Granger, I would say that is a precise evaluation of the details I have given you"

I can't quite tell if he's mocking me or not, but I decide he isn't. He doesn't seem like the type to do that. I hate it when adults treat me like a moron just because I'm a child. It's very rude.

And incredibly untrue.

"Thank you again for coming" Dalia says, a little more firmly now, "But if you could just let us know how to contact you if we decide to send our children to your school, that would be great"

Dumbledore smiles and tilts his head towards Dalia politely,

"An owl will come to your home every day, if you decide to allow Miss Granger, Mr Potter and Mr Black to attend Hogwarts, then please give that owl the letter confirming as such and I will be informed"

After that there isn't much else to say. Of course I really want to ask what an owl has to do with anything. Are they part of a postage system that Wizards and Witches have? But I can tell from Dalia's face that more questions would be frowned upon, so I keep my mouth closed. Harry and Draco seem to sense the same thing, because both of them only offer a polite thank and goodbye to Dumbledore.

I suppose I'll have to save my mountain of questions for some other time. I just hope I get the chance to ask them

**Harry's P.O.V**

"So, family meeting" Dalia begins, she appears nervous, but of course she has every reason to be, it's not like this is something we've dealt with before.

Dumbledore left just as swiftly as he'd arrived, leaving all of us on edge. Adam had bustled around the kitchen making tea, his expression one of deep thought. Hermione had gone to find Chesire Cat, and is now holding him against her chest as we all sit around the table looking at each other with mixed expressions on each of our faces.

Draco and I keep exchanging meaningful glances, and I know full well what he's trying to say. He's trying to tell me that he understands how I'm feeling, and that he knows what I'm really thinking about right now.

Draco is the only one who I ever told about my dreams. The dreams about my parents. It didn't make any sense at first, and all I knew was that the dreams scared me. Not many things frighten me, and that's just a fact. But those dreams did.

I heard her scream. My mum. Or at least, it must have been my birth Mother. In those dreams, I see a spindling black shadow that morphs and changes like thick smoke bending around a cold flame. I see it invade someone's mind and destroy it from the inside. I see the thick smoke stuff itself down someone's throat. I hear words, spoken with so much violence.

I see a flash of blinding silver light. I feel a promise being made. A promise of death.

I see a soul being ripped apart.

I always thought those dreams were my imagination, creating something terrifying out of bits and pieces of my damaged psyche. But, I suppose, there was always a part of me that knew it was more than that. Some part of me knew that those dreams weren't dreams at all, but enhanced memories.

But now I know for sure. Dumbledore's admission of my parent's murder has revealed the truth to me. It's a truth I could have gone without knowing.

When Dalia clears her throat, Hermione stops whispering to her kitten, and Draco and I stop staring at each other. We all face Dalia. Adam places a hand over Dalia's, and he meets each of our eyes in turn.

"We know this is a big deal….in fact it's huge." Adam takes a deep breathe and Dalia takes over, "But we will make this decision as a family, and only after we've all had our chance to say what we think about it. Your opinions have always mattered us, as you well know, and this instance is no different, even if it is more important than anything we've discussed before"

"What we're really saying is" Adam begins steadily, "Would the three of you feel comfortable attending a boarding school where you will be learning how to develop your abilities? And more importantly, do you want to?"

"Just know" Dalia adds, "that we will support the three of you, no matter what. If you decide you want to go to a normal..muggle..school, then I'm sure we can find out more information about your world, and even find you a private tutor instead to teach you about…the things you can do. Or if you decide you want to go to Hogwarts, then we will do our best to prepare you for that kind of change"

"You also don't all have to do the same thing" Adam says seriously, his expression firm, "If one of you would rather stay, then that's fine. I know we've always encouraged you to stick together, but this is a big decision, and it should be based on what you each want individually"

I almost smile. Adam and Dalia are trying so hard to pretend that this is all alright. But I know them better than that. Dalia doesn't want us to go, I can see it in her eyes. But she would never say so, because she loves us, and wants the best for us. She always has done.

"Could we discuss it alone?" I ask, trying to keep my tone light.

Dalia blinks in surprise and pauses, as if every part of her wants to say no. But just as I knew she would, Dalia simply smiles tightly and nods,

"If you need to, then we'll give you a few minutes alone to talk about it"

Adam looks like he wants to protest too, but as usual, he follows Dalia's lead. They leave the room together, and I'm pretty sure it'll do them some good to talk alone as well.

As soon as they're out of earshot, Hermione and Draco move closer to me, leaning in earnestly.

"So, what do you both really think?" I ask them, wanting their opinions first, before I share mine.

Hermione cuddles Chesire Cat tighter for a moment, and then says,

"I want to go, I think. At least, I want to learn more about what we can do. I want to meet other people like us. I just want….to know….everything"

I can't stop the smirk that spreads over my face, and Draco barely contains a snicker. Of course Hermione would want to know everything, it's been her ambition in life ever since I've known her.

Hermione and I turn to Draco and simply wait. He makes a face at us, and chews on his lip for a while. Finally he sighs and says,

"I think I want to go as well, if only so we can learn how to better control our powers. I don't like the idea of us not knowing how to handle something so dangerous. I mean, we could really hurt people by accident if we don't understand how to use it properly. Plus, it all sounds so strangely enchanting" Draco frowns then, "Do you think those owls get paid for delivering post?"

Hermione slaps her forehead and groans,

"Drake, please don't start-"

But it's too late. It always is.

Draco slams his hand down on the table and says fiercely,

"Well, if they're guilty of owl slavery, then I'll  _have_  to go"

"You don't know that Drake" Hermione argues, "Maybe the owls just  _like_ delivering post"

Draco shakes his head at her,

"So? Even if they do enjoy delivering post, that doesn't mean they deserve to be taken advantage of. I mean, Adam enjoys cooking at the restaurant, but he still expects to be paid for it"

Hermione makes a frustrated sound and gives Draco an exasperated look,

"Adam isn't an owl, Drake!" she exclaims loudly.

"I know that!" Draco shouts back at her.

I clear my throat meaningfully, and immediately Hermione and Draco turn back to me. I arch an eyebrow at both of them,

"I believe we're getting off topic. So that's two votes for attending Hogwarts, yes?"

Hermione and Draco give each other one last scathing look before nodding mutely at me. Right then, that makes things easier, I didn't want to have to convince either of them to go.

"I agree, I think it would be best if we attended Hogwarts for at least one year to see what goes on. We can always come home for the next year if we decide against going back for the second"

"That's final then" Hermione says decisively.

Dalia and Adam choose that moment to come back into the room, twin looks of apprehension on their faces. I sit forward and watch them both closely for a moment as they sit back down in front of us.

"We've decided that we would like to go to Hogwarts" I tell them.

Dalia appears stricken for about a second, but then the pain vanishes from her eyes. Something in me softens slightly, and I smile at my adoptive mother. She's the only person in my life who loved me when I was just a lost boy who no one wanted. I will never forget what she did for me, what she still does for me every day.

"Hermione, Draco and I want to go to this school because we want to know more about what we are, and how to use our abilities, not because we want to leave you and Adam" I explain to Dalia.

"Oh, I know that Harry, my love" Dalia says, but her smile indicates that she appreciates me saying it out loud. She knows I don't normally say things like that.

"Are you sure about this?" Adam asks carefully, his eyes resting for a long time on his Goddaughter.

"We're really sure" Hermione says with a strong nod.

"Well then" Dalia sighs and then smiles brightly, it just about reaches her eyes, "We better start planning. Wasn't there a list of things you need to take with you along with your letters? Right, good, at least we know where to go for those things"

Before he left, Dumbledore had given Dalia directions to a place especially for parents of Muggleborns. He told her all she had to do was ask someone there about Diagon Alley, and they would tell us how to get there. Apparently Diagon Alley is the perfect place for us to buy whatever books and things we might need.

I think Dumbledore was under no illusions, he knew we'd be coming to Hogwarts. The man is not a fool, which is one of the reasons why I don't trust him. A man that powerful, and that clever, is always someone to be wary of.

But I suppose part of my mistrust comes from the way he was looking at Draco. It made me angry for reasons I don't fully understand. For a moment I simply saw red, and if Draco hadn't calmed me down by touching my leg, I really might have done something stupid. Like let all that power inside me come bursting out.

I can still feel it now, crackling and rushing through my body like a tidal wave. I've only felt it a couple of times before. I never understood what it was, but now I know. After feeling Dumbledore's power all around me, I can finally recognise my own. And Draco's, whether he's aware of it or not.

We're incredibly strong, both of us, I just know it. It's like I can feel that undeniable connection between my power and his, right down to my bones. Maybe that's why we've always been so drawn to each other, because my power recognised the strength of his and vice versa.

We discuss the idea of Hogwarts for a bit longer. Basically how it would work, and what the particular dynamics of the situation would be. In the end, Dalia and Adam decide that they will take us to get our new school stuff next week.

Hermione must read through the list they gave us about a hundred times. One thing we keep coming back to is the lack of wand. Dumbledore did mention that apparently Witches and Wizards don't use wands. There does, however, seem to be some emphasis on the Gem stone ring item. According to the list, it is the most important thing for us to buy as it is linked to our fated element.

Hermione, Draco and I stay up practically all night speculating on this one fact alone. There are so many things to talk about and discover, it's enough to go mad over. I don't know how we've gone all these years knowing nothing at all.

Although I get the feeling that we'll be learning more than enough once we actually get to Hogwarts. This is the first time I've been this excited about pretty much anything. I'm pretty sure Draco and Hermione feel the same way.

The three of us are in the living room. Dalia and Adam let us sleep in here tonight because of all the excitement. We've created a sheet fort, like we used to do when we were younger. I have Draco lying on my right, and Hermione on my left, the three if us are led close enough together that we touch.

When Hermione finally drops off to sleep, Draco shifts his body even closer to mine, and whispers,

"We're Wizards" His tone is gleeful.

I smile down at Draco, who is watching me with a sleepy expression, his pale eyes contrasting wildly with the ring of black within his iris. It captures my attention from time to time, and I feel myself unable to look away, like a moth reaching out to a flame. I reply to him quietly,

"It's amazing, I know."

I allow Draco to see the very real excitement in my eyes. I wouldn't reveal that depth of emotion to anyone else. I'm just not wired that way.

Draco's expression darkens for a moment and he seems to struggle internally before saying,

"I'm sorry about your parents, Bolt"

My whole body stiffens and I shake my head,

"No need to be sorry. They're barely even a memory to me"

"Don't be like that" Draco says sharply, his expression briefly twisting into one of anger. But then his face softens again and meets my eyes with a sad smile, "I know you care, Bolt. You don't have to be ashamed of that, or embarrassed by it"

I grit my teeth, not wanting to feel what I'm feeling. I don't want to be curious about my parents. I don't want to care that they're actually dead. There's no real reason for them to mean anything to me. And yet…...

"What about your parents?" I ask Draco suddenly, having just realised that through everything, Draco's biological parents were never even hinted at or mentioned in any way.

Draco shrugs and smiles slightly at me again, although the sad tinge is gone now,

"What about them, they're sleeping upstairs?"

I don't know whether to laugh at that, or be jealous of how honest he sounds. Draco isn't pretending, he really does think of Dalia and Adam as his parents, first and foremost.

"Do you really not want to know about your biological parents?" I ask, my face setting into a frown against my will.

Draco doesn't even hesitate,

"No. I don't care who they were, because either they sent me away for a good reason, or they just didn't want me. Either way, it doesn't really matter anymore. I'm here now, and you, Hermione, Dalia and Adam are my family. End of."

Maybe it is that simple, it obviously is for Draco. But try as I might, I just can't shake the need to know more about my own parents, even though it probably won't make any difference.

**Draco's P.O.V**

We're all on edge for days until Dalia finally says it's time to go get our new school supplies. It was a good thing too, because I think I was honestly about to go bonkers.

I've never been this excited about anything in my entire life. Hermione is just as excited as I am, although I think our reasons are slightly different. Harry isn't showing much of anything, but then again that's not exactly unusual.

Harry and I haven't spoken the way we did the night after the letters came since, and I think that's because I upset Harry, or at least confused him. He's never understood my lack of interest in my biological parents. It's been sort of a standing argument between us for years actually.

It's not that Harry wants me to be curious about my birth parents, he just doesn't get why I'm not and he is. I understand his point, if anything, it really should be the other way around. But I can't change how I feel, and neither can Harry, no matter how much he may want to.

I can't really explain why thoughts of my birth parents have never inspired any feeling inside me. It's not that I don't care at all, I just don't feel the need to actively seek out answers. As far as I'm concerned, Dalia and Adam are the only parents I've ever known, and I'm more than fine with that.

"This is gonna be so  _wicked_ " I whisper to Hermione as we follow Dalia and Adam into a very non-descript building only about an hour away from our home.

It's quite dimly lit inside, and looks more like an old beaten down hotel than some kind of portal to another world. That's our best theory by the way. I mean, there's no way that there's some random Witches and Wizards mini shopping centre in the middle of London or something. So it must be hidden somehow.

Dalia and Adam pause awkwardly at the empty checking in desk. There's no one standing around or anything, so it begins to feel a little eerie. But then a woman comes striding in from what looks like a backroom. Her face is round and soft, and her expression when her eyes land on us is incredibly warm and inviting.

The knot in my stomach loosens ever so slightly.

"Well hello there" the woman says, smiling brightly at our guardian and then at us, "You two must be Dalia St Clair and Adam Brooks, Dumbledore did tell us you would be stopping by at some point"

"Oh, right, hello" Dalia replies politely.

Adam goes for a slightly more direct approach and asks,

"How did you know it was us?"

The woman's smile brightens and her eyes flicker to Harry, something like fierce joy igniting in them as she watches him. I notice her gaze linger on Harry's forehead. Uh oh. Adam notices the look as well and murmurs,

"Oh, right"

She practically beams at Harry,

"Can I just say, it's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Potter, truly a pleasure"

Harry blinks in surprise for a moment before schooling his features back into place. He nods politely at the woman and replies,

"Thank you, it's nice to meet you too…."

"Balinda Dearest, Mr. Potter, but you can all call me Bal, everyone else does" Balinda says with another almost blinding smile at Harry.

It's almost funny, and I wonder if everyone is going to react like that towards Harry from now on. Oh, if that's the case, then Harry's going to hate it. He doesn't particularly like being in the limelight, much preferring to control things from behind the scenes.

Balinda Dearest shakes Adam's hand, and then Dalia's, although her eyes definitely keep straying back to Harry. Hermione and I can't seem to stop exchanging amused glances, watching Harry slowly get more and more tense and uncomfortable.

I know it shouldn't be that funny. But it really is. I think it's because Harry is so rarely rattled, that it's amusing to see him act mortal like the rest of us for a change.

Harry glares at me and Hermione when he catches us smirking, which very nearly makes me fall over with laughter, but I just about manage to hold it in. Hermione isn't so lucky, and she snorts out a very loud laugh.

"Come along through and I'll take you to Diagon Alley." Balinda says brightly, turning on her heel and waving us through after her without looking back.

Dalia and Adam both glance down at us, and then shrug at each other, one of them muttering "Um, ok then"

" _Behave_ " Dalia whispers at us with a serious look on her face, as Adam starts following after Balinda. We nod back like good little children. God only knows how we'll actually react though.

Things might end up exploding. You never know.

Dalia rolls her eyes like she doesn't believe we'll behave well at all, and to be fair, she has a lot of history to back up that assumption.

Balinda leads us down a long dark hallway, and I begin to get flashbacks from the time Adam took us to Weston and we rode the ghost train at the end of the pier. It wasn't exactly scary, but there was definitely a creepy feel to the place.

I remember Harry sat through the whole ride with this completely bored expression on his face, whereas Adam  _really_  got into it. A little too much, according to Dalia, who, at the time, had merely arched an eyebrow at Adam, and had commented that he was enjoying something that three eight year olds found tedious and childish, and that he should really think about that.

Hermione and I had spent the entire ride trying to poke Harry into reacting, by screaming in all the right places and occasionally grabbing him in the dark. I swear Harry didn't even blink once.

But anyway, this hallway reminds me of that, not because of how it looks exactly, but because of how it feels.

Balinda stops at the end of the long corridor and takes out a massive ring of keys. She smiles back at us once before using one of the keys to open the door and swing it open. All we can see is darkness. Balinda stands aside pointedly and says,

"One at a time step through and you will be taken to where you need to be"

We all exchange looks of skepticism, and as a family, we all take a big step back. In unison.

"Is it safe?" Dalia asks, eyeing the seemingly endless darkness on the other side of the door.

I can feel the power emanating from that room, and although I can't say it's threatening, I still don't know if I want to throw myself at it. If I was alone, I might have reached out to touch it, but not with Harry here. I can only imagine the scolding I would get for being so impulsive.

Balinda tilts her head at us, as if not understanding our reactions,

"No need to worry, it's perfectly safe. Just step through and the Magik will do the rest"

Hermione locks eyes with me for a moment, and I shrug back at her. She steps forward a little and pulls that prim 'I'm so smart' face of hers. She asks Belinda,

"Are you a Witch?"

Balinda barks out a laugh and shakes her head,

"Oh, no sweetie, I'm just a muggle liaison with your Magikal government. I help muggle parents with their Magikal children"

Harry is in full on scowl mode now, and his tone is cold when he says,

"How can we possibly trust your word that it's safe? We don't know you, and that door could lead anywhere."

"Like off a cliff. Or straight into a hostage situation." I say with a firm nod at Harry.

Harry sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose,

"Dragon, please don't help"

Hermione tries to stifle a snicker and I poke my tongue out at her.

"Shut up, Hermon"

Hermione crosses her arms,

"You shut up. Why would a portal take us to a hostage situation anyway?"

I shrug dismissively,

"Maybe this is all an elaborate hoax to kidnap young children and force them into a life of crime. We could be transported right into the middle of a bank heist, then we'd have no way of explaining to the police why we were there, and they'd take us to prison, where we'd have no choice but to join gangs. I can't be part of a gang Hermon, I don't have enough street cred to pull it off. "

I take a deep breath and then continue,

"I'd probably end up being everyone's favourite punching bag, and the only way I'd ever be able to escape the beatings is to become someone's drug mule. Then when I finally got out when I was really old, like thirty or something, I'd have to join the Mafia so I could sell more drugs because that's the only job I could get. Not long after that I'd get shot and killed during a gun fight between the Mafia and the police"

A long pause.

Ok. Now I'm being stared at. That tends to happen when I babble.

Hermione shakes her head at me in exasperation,

"You. Are. Ridiculous. Why would anyone want to frame children for a bank heist?"

I wave a hand and say darkly,

"How would I know? I'm not a master criminal Hermon!"

"No, you're an idiot. " Hermione snaps back, "It would never hold up in court anyway" Hermione adds, and she starts in on another rant about the law. Any excuse to quote that damn book.

Harry is watching us both with an arched eyebrow. He gives another weary sigh and says in that tone that makes me feel like a stupid child,

"We are  _not_  going to end up in prison" Hermione and I immediately stop arguing and turn to Harry as he continues, "Besides, even if we did, our abilities would easily aide us in escaping. So there's really no need to argue."

See, he's saying that so reasonably, but I know what he really means is 'shut up you weirdos'. Doesn't sound so polite when you think of it like that now does it?

Balinda stares between all three of us, a look of strained shock on her face. Then she glances up at Dalia and Adam and says slowly,

"Your children are very-"

"We know" Adam and Dalia say at the same time, in a tone of voice that is both resigned and strangely proud.

"Come on then" Dalia says with a nervous laugh, "Either we're going or we're not"

Adam makes a face and shrugs,

"I'll go first. Wait to see if I burst into flames or something, then come after me."

Dalia gives him a glare, but doesn't say anything. By this point in their relationship they've developed the ability to have conversations without actually saying a word. Right now they're having the 'stop being a tosser" conversation. It's something I've seen many times before.

Balinda's eyes suddenly widen and she holds up a hand,

"Oh, I'm sorry, I had thought Dumbledore would have explained this situation to you. Muggles are not allowed into Diagon Alley, it goes against the Ministry of Magik's code of regulations"

"What?" Dalia snaps, "You expect us to send our children...alone?" She's staring at Balinda incredulously.

Balinda shakes her head, surprised at the vehemence in Dalia's voice most likely,

"No, they won't be alone once they get there of course. Dumbledore has sent a trusted representative from Hogwarts to help them aquire their school supplies, then they shall be brought back here safe and sound."

I watch as Harry becomes so tense that I'm afraid he may actually explode like a bomb in a china factory. We're standing close enough that I can reach out my hand and twine my little finger around his, attempting to calm him at least a little. Harry's gaze flickers sharply over to me, but he doesn't let go straight away, and his shoulders definitely loosen.

Hermione notices what I'm doing, somehow, and she discreetly reaches down to link her little finger with Harry's other little finger. With that, Harry's body relaxes, and the power within him stops rising.

I can't decide if what we're doing is really sweet, or completely sad.

"I don't know if this is a good idea" Adam says, sounding like he'd rather just take us all back home and stay there for the foreseeable future.

Balinda smiles reassuringly at us as Adam and Dalia give each other concerned looks. They'd never want to risk anything happening to us, but at the same time, they don't want to hold us back from finding out more about what we are.

Finally Dalia turns to Balinda and asks seriously,

"Is there any way for us to stay in contact with the children whilst they're over there?"

Balinda pauses, as if in thought, and then replies,

"We could use the Legilimency mirror"

"The what now?" I question.

Balinda smiles brightly again,

"It's a device that was created by a very famous Witch inventor, Pandora Lovegood. The mirror allows one to communicate with someone who also owns a Legilimency mirror. We have one here in this house, and also a smaller portable one. The children could take the small one, and then you could use the one here to contact them when they arrive"

That. Is. Brilliant!

"So it's basically a phone?" Hermione says, looking unimpressed.

"Not exactly dear" Balinda explains, "It allows you to actually see the person you're communicating with"

Hermione mutters something about it still basically being a phone, which we all ignore. Most likely to stave off any more arguments.

"Alright then" Dalia says with a sigh, "we'll try it, but if the children want to come home at any point-"

"Then they will be allowed to do so immediately" Balinda says, sounding more serious than she has this whole time, "The safety of these children is a top priority for us here at the Muggleborn association"

"Good" Adam says protectively, eyeing the portal with a certain amount of suspicion.

Dalia turns to us suddenly and kneels in front of Harry, Hermione and I. She smiles at us, but there's worry etched into her face,

"Now, you three stay together. I'm trusting you to be careful and to not run off and get into trouble, yes?"

"Yes" We answer in varying degrees of surety.

Dalia takes a deep breathe and mouths,

"Be safe" at us before standing up straight and moving aside to let us pass. Adam grasps at Dalia's hand and they move close to each other, holding on to one another's arms in what looks like a death grip.

"I'll go first" Harry says firmly before someone starts crying or shouting.

Harry takes a tentative few steps forward, and after a caustic smile back at us, and a manic grin from Balinda, he steps over the threshold and into the waiting darkness.

There's a dramatic crackling sound and a flash like lightening striking, and then he's gone.


	4. Rings of Destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)

**Hermione's P.O.V**

Balinda rushes off to get the small mirror, and it turns out to actually be a mirror. Although, I'd say the glass itself seems more blue than silver.

Draco and I follow after Harry once I've put the mirror in my bag. I take in a deep breathe before throwing myself into the darkness. I had to force my eyes not to flicker over to Adam or Dalia, because I did not want to see the worry and pain on their faces I can't handle that kind of guilt right now, even if I know they're not doing it on purpose.

As soon as I'm over the threshold of the door, something seems to snap along my skin, like a hundred little elastic bands are being pinged at me from all sides. It's a strange feeling, but not exactly painful. A light bursts out in front of me, and at first it feels like I'm falling. Endlessly. Now that really does feel strange.

Sparks of light crackle in and out of existence all around me in the dark, and I find myself trying not to scream as more and more pressure tightens over my skin. Again, it isn't painful, just horribly dissimilar to anything I've ever felt before.

Just when I think I can't stand a single more moment of it, I halt in midair, or at least what I think must be air. I still can't see anything around me. I wonder if I'm in some kind of tunnel. But I don't have long to ponder that thought, because suddenly there's a final large crackle of light that slashes out in front of me, seemingly causing a hole in the darkness. Then some unknown force propels me towards that slash of light and through it. I have to close my eyes against the brightness.

For a terrifying second, I wonder if Draco was right, and I'm about to be thrown off a cliff. But when I feel myself land on something soft, I slowly blink my eyes open again. The first thing I see is Draco and Harry, who immediately rush over to help me up.

I take their offered hands and rise shakily to my feet. I quickly scan around me and realise that we're in a room, and that I just landed on a lone mattress. The room is white from floor to ceiling and looks clean, if a little sterile. There are no windows. The only item in the room is the equally white mattress.

"Are you alright?" Draco asks, sounding concerned. Harry has already moved away, having checked me over with his eyes to determine my state, and is now at the wooden door, touching it warily, as if it might bite him.

I smile at Draco, trying to ease his worries,

"I'm fine, Drake. That was just…."

"Insane" Draco supplies with a rueful grin.

I grin back at him and nod,

"Yeah, pretty much. Kinda scary too."

Although the most terrifying part for me was thinking, for even a second, that Draco was right about something. I'd never be able to live that down.

Harry turns back to us, a small smirk on his face. He must have heard something in my voice, because he says knowingly,

"You thought you were about to be chucked off a cliff, didn't you?"

I narrow my eyes at him and huff,

"Maybe, but only for a split second"

Draco makes a whooping sound and does what can only be described as a 'happy dance'. I snort derisively at him, but he's too busy laughing.

"I knew you'd see it my way Hermon!" Draco exclaims.

"I most certainly did not see it your way, I only had a few moment of temporary madness" I snap back at him, my cheeks getting hot.

I hear Harry chuckle from his place at the door. When I turn a full glare on him, he raises an eyebrow and lifts a placating hand,

"Don't feel too bad HG, I thought the exact same thing at the end there"

That gets another round of laughter and jig dancing from Draco. Idiot.

We're brought back to the matter at hand when someone knocks very loudly on the white wooden door. From the other side obviously. Harry, Draco and I all pause to give each other 'huh' looks. Harry holds up a hand at us and mouths 'wait'. I figure he doesn't want to give away that we're in here until we get a better grasp of the situation.

Suddenly a deep booming voice rings out through the door,

"Children, move away from the door, because I'm coming in"

Harry reluctantly relinquishes his position at the door, but he makes sure he's still standing in front of both me and Draco, a determined look on his face. Draco moves up closer to Harry, standing on his right side, a fierce spark in his strange eyes. I take my place at Harry's left side, the three of us bracing ourselves for whoever, or whatever, may come through that door.

To say the door was opened dramatically, would a gross understatement, as it was practically ripped off its hinges. A being, so impossibly big that he defies all reason, steps into the white room. His face is almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but I can just about make out his eyes, glimmering like black gemstones under all the hair.

The giant's beady eyes fasten on us, and my body tenses automatically. I feel more than see Draco and Harry do the same. The very large man, Hagrid, looks us over for a moment, and his expression brightens noticeably when he looks at Harry.

Of course, it's Draco who breaks the incredibly thick silence by saying really fast,

"Flipping hell, please do  _not_ eat us…Sir"

I give him an exasperated look, the giant momentarily forgotten, and say,

"You can't end a sentence like that with 'Sir', it makes no logical sense, you insane person"

Draco gives me a wide eyed stare,

"I don't want to offend him, Hermon. That's how you get yourself eaten."

I make a sound of annoyance and roll my eyes,

"I think that point becomes moot when you ask that person not to eat you, Drake"

"Says you" Draco retorts, "I, however, remain positive in such situations"

"Big words coming from someone who's first automatic response is that he'll want to eat you!" I fire back at Draco.

"Stop, both of you, now." Harry intones, in a deep voice that speaks of maturity and power like no other. It's that voice that always makes Draco and I freeze, and immediately snap our attention back to him. This time is no exception. Harry hasn't taken his eyes off Hagrid since the moment he entered the room, and I feel the tension in his body like it's my own.

Before Harry can say another word though, Hagrid smiles brightly at him and says, in that same booming voice,

"Harry Potter. Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby. Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes."

We are all officially stunned for a moment. Harry is the first to speak this time,

"Who are you exactly?" His voice isn't really icy or anything, but there's definitely something there that isn't at all friendly.

Hagrid chuckles, seemingly not bothered by Harry's cool tone,

"Sorry, yer right, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. Call me Hagrid, everyone does. Professor Dumbledore sent me to help ya around Diagon Alley"

At the mention of Dumbldore and Hogwarts, I feel myself loosen up a little bit. Draco looks a lot less ready to attack as well when I glance over at him, although the weariness is still there in his eyes. Harry on the other hand doesn't seem to shift at all, his expression still hard and blank. I can't read him at all when he's like that. But to see what he's thinking I'll have to actually be looking into his eyes, that's how it works. I do catch his eye then, and I attempt to reach out and actually connect with his thoughts, but I'm met with a thick wall around his mind.

The warning is clear, keep out.

"It's great to meet you, Hagrid" Draco says politely when no one else speaks.

I nod in agreement and add with a small smile,

"Yes, it is. My name is Hermione Granger," I gesture at Draco, "and this is Dra-"

"Draco Black" Hagrid exclaims, "I know who yeh 're lass, and Mr. Black 'ere too."

Oh, good.

Hagrid gives Draco a look then that is full of sadness, but only lasts for a few brief seconds before it disappears. Huh, weird.

"We better get movin' then" Hagrid continues, "A 'ot eh things to do"

Hagrid smiles one last time at Harry, and then makes a sweeping gesuture and begins walking away. I assume he means us to follow him. I exchange a few glances with Draco and Harry, who both seem a bit perplexed.

Finally, though, Harry sighs heavily and says with a forced lightness to his tone,

"Alright, come on then, let's go follow the giant who might yet eat us, if Dragon has anything to say about it"

Draco narrows his eyes at Harry, whose smirk I just about catch sight of as he starts to go after Hagrid. Draco calls out to him,

"Your words hurt, Bolt!"

"Sticks and stones, remember, Drake." I say to Draco, patting him on the arm before moving to follow after Harry.

I hear Draco say,

"Sometimes rhymes are wrong, Hermon" But Draco catches up to Harry and I quickly as we leave the white room and follow Hagrid down an equally bright and clean looking hallway.

"Hagrid" Harry asks as we reach the door of this apparently empty building, "We don't actually have any money on us at the moment, perhaps we should return to our Gaurdians"

He's right, I realise, in all the excitement, we forgot to ask Dalia and Adam to give us some money to use for our new school supplies.

"Don't worry about that," says Hagrid, he looks down at Harry. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything, Harry?"

Harry can't seem to stop himself from frowning,

"My parents left me money? Where?"

"'Course they did, boy. First stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank." Hagrid says with an earnest gleam to his black eyes. He glances back at Draco and nods, "You too, Draco, your Ma' left you a hefty sum 'an all. I'm sure you both won't mind sharing with yer friend for now" He nods at me.

Draco blinks in surprise,

"Of course we don't mind" he turns to me with a bright smile, "We got you covered, Hermon" Harry makes a noise of agreement, but doesn't say anything else. He seems to still be absorbing this new information about his parents.

I squeeze Draco's hand appreciatively and whisper,

"Thank you, Drake"

He just winks back at me and squeezes my hand in return,

"No worries Hermon"

"Wait, Wizards have their own banks?" Harry asks suddenly, having come out of his daze apparently.

"Only one 'round 'ere, Gringotts. Run by Goblins." Hargrid replies readily.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Draco holds his hands up, a look of pure excitement in his eyes, "Goblins exist? Like, seriously?"

I have never seen him this happy about anything before. I worry for a moment that he might pass out from sheer joy, if such a thing were possible.

Hagrid smiles, somewhat affectionately at Draco,

"Yeah — so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, you three. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe — 'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business."

Draco is practically bouncing now,

"Goblins! There are Goblins working in the  _Wizard bank_! That is the most fantastic thing I have ever heard! Can we go there now?"

"Why would you be mad to try and steal from Gringotts?" Harry asks thoughtfully, obviously trying to balance out Draco's crazy.

"Fierce Magik — Goblin enchantments," Hagrid says seriously, "They say there's dragons guardin' the high security vaults and-"

"DRAGONS!" Draco pretty much shouts, sounding so damn excited that I fear he'll spontaneously combust or something.

" _Dragon_ " Harry says in a warning tone, and Draco makes a real effort to look at least a little mollified. I have to hide a giggle behind my hand at the irony.

"One more question" I say, and Hagrid turns his attention to me, "What is the Ministry of Magik?"

"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country." Hagrid explains, his brow creases and he adds, "They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."

"Why does it need to be a secret?" I ask, "Why aren't muggles allowed to know?"

"Why? Blimey, Hermione, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone." Hagrid says with some feeling. Enough that I understand secrecy is a big thing in this world. I'd love to know more History about it. I wonder if they'll have books that will explain.

"Off we go then" Hagrid says, reaching out to open the very ordinary looking front door.

Hagrid opens up the door and leads us into another room. Although this looks more like a rustic dentists waiting room than anything. I begin to wonder if our lives from now on are just going to be a parade of us walking into strange and random different rooms.

There are a lot of people in here however, and one man calls out to Hagrid,

"Hagrid, you free to go get a drink?"

Upon further reflection, I see that this room is some kind of lounge, not quite a bar or pub, but a place where one might meet a friend for a brief chat. There are big wooden chairs and stout tables everywhere. The lights are dimmed, but not enough that we can't see properly.

Everyone is dressed rather strangely, although it reminds me of what Dumbledore wore when he visited us. I didn't think about it much when he was busy telling me I'm a witch. But now that I think of it, I've never seen people who dress quite like this.

The women all seem to be wearing either very beautiful and tight fitting dresses, or short loose fitted trousers and small tops that criss cross over their front or are just a strip of fabric that cover their chest. Quite a few, especially the younger looking women, seem to be wearing tops that expose their stomachs or backs, showing very detailed tattoo's. Or at least I thought they were tattoos at first, but I swear I just saw one of them moving.

The men, on the other hand, all appear to be wearing fitted trousers with tunics, and both long and short jackets made seemingly of leather, or occasionally a firm cotton-like material. Some of them look almost like they're wearing armour. I see a flash of the men from The Musketeers in my mind, because that's what they all look like.

Hagrid shakes his head at the man who called out to him,

"Can't now Steve, I'm on Hogwarts business"

We find our way over to the wide ornate door on the other side of the big room. But before Hagrid can move to open it, Harry makes the mistake of brushing his hand through his black hair, causing his scar to become very visible.

"Goodness," a young woman says, peering at Harry, "is this — can this be —?"

The whole place has suddenly gone very quiet. Silent even.

"Harry Potter… what an honor." Another man says from nearby. He holds his hand out excitedly to shake Harry's. Harry reluctantly allows him to do so.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back" A woman a few seats away says, beaming at Harry.

The room begins to buzz with conversation, and it all seems to center on Harry. People begin flocking to Harry, causing him to look mildly alarmed. Draco and I nod at each other and move closer to him, trying to keep some of the baying crowd from getting too near Harry.

"Amelia Lock, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand — simply smashing Mr. Potter."

"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you, Jonsey's the name, Robert Jonsey."

Harry has to shake the hand of almost every single person in the place—Amelia Lock keeps coming back for more. She actually turns to Draco and me at one point and says,

"You two must be very proud to be friends with  _Harry Potter_ "

I catch Draco's eye for a moment and he winks sneakily at me.

"We're his accomplices" Draco says with a firm nod, almost making me laugh. Harry nudges Draco with his elbow and shakes his head. I've never seen Harry look so flustered in all the time I've known him. It's strangely satisfying.

Eventually Hagrid manages to get himself heard over the noise and babble,

"Must get on — lots ter buy. Come on, you three"

Harry breathes a sigh of relief and is quick to turn away from his adoring fans, looking about ready to make a real run for it.

Hagrid taps on the door three times and whispers something under his breathe. A flicker of fire licks out from his fingers. The door swings open and Harry practically runs past Hagrid to escape. Draco and I follow more carefully.

"Welcome," Hagrid says, throwing out his arm, "To Diagon Alley"

** Harry's P.O.V **

Diagon Alley is the most remarkable place I've ever seen. Truly. It's spectacular.

There are buildings and shops everywhere. All of which are seemingly made out of glass. The ground appears to be all silver and gold brick, forming complicated patterns all over the place. I realise after further inspection that the cobbled patterns form together to create symbols. Element symbols. I also marvel that within every couple of stones there is a smaller version of the symbol carved into it.

Every single building is made out of some kind of glass or possibly even crystal. Some of them are clear and see through, and others coloured, like glass windows in a Church, or walls of crystal from a Volcano. A few of them even have massive pictures moulded into the front, a representation of what's inside the shop maybe.

It is honestly beautiful.

"Wow, so  _wonderful_ " I hear Hermione from behind me as she lets out a harsh breathe in awe.

"This is amazing!" Draco gushes from my other side, and I can tell without looking that he's shifting from foot to foot excitedly.

I can't help but agree with both of their assessments. In even my wildest imaginings, I never could have done Diagon Alley justice. I can't think that there's another place in the world quite like it.

Hagrid barely pauses before he begins walking through the crowd of strangely dressed shoppers. They all look like mystical beings from another planet, which to be fair, they sort of are. At least by muggle standards. It still feels a little odd to think of normal people that way, although it certainly makes it easier to have specific distinctions between people like me and people like Dalia and Adam.

Not that I could ever believe I was better than them simply because of my abilities, because that would be completely ludicrous. But it does shine a whole different light on the world, and the how I fit into it, in some ways.

All this almost makes up for what happened back there in that place with all those people fawning over me. I shudder at even the thought of having so much attention thrust upon me like that again. Not that I mind my accomplishments being admired, just not to that intense level.

Besides, I didn't actually do anything to deserve it, which bothers me in a way I don't quite understand. I really do not consider surviving a psycho murderer whilst your parents are being slaughtered around you something to brag about.

I make a gesture with my chin for Hermione and Draco to come with me after Hagrid, and they do so without comment.

It's not long however before Draco presses closer to me and asks,

"Are you alright, you know, after getting kinda mobbed back there?"

Hermione makes a sound of ascension,

"There's nothing 'kinda' about it; those people completely threw themselves at him. It was mad."

I shrug noncommittally and school my face into something bland and emotionless. No need to let anyone see how much it really bothered me.

"I'm fine, it was just a bit of a shock, that's all" I would never admit even that much to anyone but Hermione and Draco.

Draco, as usual, gives me a knowing look, and Hermione simply raises an eyebrow in question. I pretend not to notice, which fools neither of them, but they don't push. Instead Draco gets this playful look on his face, and his eyes flicker up to my jagged scar as he says,

"It sounds like everyone is pretty grateful for what you did"

"You think so?" I reply, maybe a bit sarcastically.

Draco makes a face at me,

"I wasn't talking to  _you_ "

"Oh  _really_?" I arch an eyebrow at him.

"Nope. I meant your forehead," Draco throws his hands up dramatically " _All hail the almighty forehead of Harry Potter!_ "

I shake my head and look around quickly to make sure no one is paying attention to us. Luckily it seems like Diagon Alley is too loud and busy to care what three children are shouting about.

"Shut up Dragon," I snap at Draco.

"Sounds like someone's jealous of their own forehead," Hermione says through her own laughter.

I ignore them both and focus on the things around me, which are stunning to say the least.

All three of us are enraptured for a time with the beauty and mystery of Diagon Alley. There are shops that are selling everything from Owls to strange almost 18th century clothing with modern day twists to objects that seem to glow and spark with power.

A man, wearing a grand looking armour-like tunic, comes stalking out of a shop made of green crystal, and I hear him mutter,

"Fourteen gold pieces for a Dreamscale dagger, huh, completely outrageous…"

There's one shop, with a deeply engraved black crystal sign that reads 'Soar the Skys'. In the window are boards, which look bigger than skateboards, but smaller than ones for surfing. They're all blank and seemingly made of some kind of clear crystal. But when I focus a bit more, I can see that the boards have strange markings on them, and yet more symbols.

A few boys my age are pressed against the front of the blue tinted building. I hear one of them say,

"Firesparks! Look, it's the Zanther 8.0.!"

A few shops seemed to be stacked full of impressive looking heavy bound books. I almost laugh when I see Hermione practically salivating over those shops, the need to steal more knowledge glints in her eyes like a sharpened knife.

Draco points out a very tall shop, the walls are made of black crystal, although there are windows of silver that must be one way only. The sign reads, 'Mark of Magik', and there are patterns and symbols all over the walls, advertising what's inside. Draco whispers to me,

"I think that's where people are getting those tattoos that move"

I blink rapidly, and watch the door as some people come out, showing more skin than normal, and covering that skin are freshly done tattoos. Or at least they look like tattoos, right up until they start squirming and rippling in movement, just like Draco said.

Then something else occurs to me,

"Why is 'Magic' being spelled with a 'K' on everything?" It's something I noticed before on books in Diagon Alley's shops, and on our Hogwarts letters.

Hermione and Draco lean in to hear the answer as Hagrid looks back over his shoulder.

"Ah, well, 'Magik' is meant to be spelt with a 'K'. That's how it's always been throughout our history."

Oh. But then why….

"Why do…muggles spell it with a 'C' then?" Draco asks, seeming reluctant to use the word 'muggle'.

The question makes Hagrid laugh though, and he replies,

"Muggles tend to make up their own minds about what they do see, and what they don't. They have their own versions of Witches and Wizards, that doesn't mean they're right"

I suppose that makes sense. I didn't ever imagine Witches and Wizards being like this. There is no wand waving, or robes with pointy hats.

In what appears to be the town square, there is a gigantic statue of the elemental symbols. All four of the symbols are intertwined together and reach high up into the sky. I find it hard not to gape at such a true masterpiece. Draco does nothing to hide his awe, and he grins at me excitedly.

For the first time I wonder what my element will be. I didn't truly consider it before, part of my mind still thinking that all this couldn't possibly be real. But now that I've seen Diagon Alley, and how prominent the theme of elements is, I can't help but speculate.

I think all three of us are knocked back a step by the sight of the Wizard bank.

Gringotts is the biggest building we've seen so far, in fact it looks more like a palace than any kind of bank. It's also the only building not made of glass or crystal, instead it shimmers, the walls seemingly made of a strange light. A blinding light that almost appears to have a life of its own, as it literally hums with power.

I can't stop myself from asking Hagrid,

"What is that light?"

Hagrid smiles down at me fondly, and I make quick work of pushing all emotion from my face. It makes me feel uncomfortable that Hagrid seems so emotionally connected to me already.

"That there boy, is what we call Cinergy."

I pause for a moment, absorbing that information, but before I can ask the obvious follow up question, Hermione beats me to it.

"What is Cinergy though?" She tilts her head to the side in thought, her eyes flickering over to Gringotts every few seconds.

Cinergy, whatever it is, draws you in like a moth to a flame.

Hagrid looks down at us, seeming to consider his answer for a moment, before saying,

"Cinergy is the source of all Magik."

"I thought our elements were the base of our power?" Draco says with a small frown.

Hagrid nods and explains,

"Your element is the base of your own individual Magik. Cinergy is the source of all Magik as a whole."

"MagiK is a lot more complicated than I thought" Draco says, emphasising the 'K' for effect.

"I think it's fascinating," Hermione remarks primly, and even though I'm sure she does actually think that, I can tell some part of her just wants to make up for the whole 'thrown off a cliff' thing with Draco from before.

Draco must realise that too, because he just smiles manically at Hermione, in that way he knows she hates, and says,

"Come on Hermon, just agree with me, you know you want to."

Hermione glares at Draco,

"I want no such thing"

Draco splays a hand out over his heart and gives Hermione his best kicked puppy look,

"I am hurt. Deeply wounded, in fact. My therapist shall hear of this."

Hermione scoffs at him,

"You don't have a therapist, Drake"

Draco nods solemnly,

"Of course I don't. But if I did, he would know all about you and your meany bo beany ways."

"You're the most ridiculous person in the world, Drake" Hermione says, crossing her arms defiantly.

Draco makes a considering face,

"You sure you don't want to look that up, I know how much you like hard facts."

Hermione's glare becomes sharper,

"I don't need to look it up. I have all the evidence I will ever need standing right in front of me."

Draco seems completely amused by this and shrugs,

"I don't see what possible help Bolt could be in this situation, but it's your investigation, not mine."

"Investigation!" Hermione exclaims, "What are we talking about now?"

"I don't have all the answers Hermon! I'm just one boy, living in a world full of meany bo beany's, ok!" Draco replies with far too much passion in his voice.

Bloody weirdo. I love him to bits, but still.

Hermione looks about to say something really scathing, and I choose that moment to step in and intervene,

"Ok, you two, that's enough. Let's go meet some Goblins"

I look up at Hagrid and try for a smile. I think I sort of pull it off, because Hagrid stops looking between Draco and Hermione in confusion and smiles back at me.

The mention of Goblins seems to snap Draco back into reality, or at least what passes for reality these days. Hermione's anger seems to have dissipated as well, and now she just looks eager.

I nod for Hagrid to lead us into the palace bank, and he does so, walking up big white steps until we reach the shimmering Cinergy door. Hagrid simply reaches out and pushes the door open. I wonder what it feels like to touch the Cinergy, but manage not to stroke the building, merely letting my hand ghost over it. I'm not sure I want to be known as the strange child who randomly strokes buildings, Wizard or not.

From just that brief sweep of my fingers though, I feel power rush through my body, squeezing my insides in a very invasive way. I have to force myself not to shudder from the intensity of it.

Once inside the building, however, I immediately realise that everything looks like it's made of marble. The floor, the walls, the ceiling, the furniture, all of it some shade or type of marble.

Standing only a few feet away from the door is a Goblin. Or, at least, I think it's a Goblin. The creature is quite a bit shorter than me. He has a leathery, cunning face, a finely cut beard, and I take note of his very long fingers and feet.

"Yeah, that's a Golbin." Hagrid says when he clocks our wide eyed stares.

The Goblin bows graciously at us.

Draco makes a half shout, half gasping sound, which I know means he's trying really hard not to lose it. My thoughts are confirmed when Draco moves over to the Goblin and bows right back at him and says,

"I am honoured to meet you, Sir. My name is Draco. May I please ask you a few questions about how Goblins are treated by Witches and Wizards?"

Oh dear God.

"Dragon" I hiss at him. Hermione is smiling behind her hand, her eyes wide, obviously amused and horrified at the same time.

I grab hold of Draco's arm and yank him back towards me. He puts up a token struggle, but eventually gives in and moves away from the Goblin.

"What are you doing?" I ask him quietly.

Draco turns to me and whispers,

"I just want to know how things work in the Magikal world. I mean, are the Goblins paid workers? Or is this like the owl thing? What do you think?"

I glance around me once, taking in the sight of the other Goblins, who have looked up from their big marble work desks to watch us. I reply to Draco,

"I  ** _think_** that they'd be more offended to hear you compare them to Owls, if anything."

Draco is about to reply when the Goblin who bowed to us says in a deep crackled voice,

" _Draco Black_?" It's a question, but it sounds more like a statement.

I realise then that all the Goblins aren't actually watching  ** _us_** , they're staring at  ** _Draco_**. Specifically at Draco. That realization makes something inside me burn, and my protective instincts kick into overdrive for a moment. I wrap an arm around Draco's waist and yank him back to me.

Hermione must experience something similar, because she's quick to grab Draco's hand, and I make sure to keep myself firmly in front of her, just in case. I exchange a glance with Hermione, and she nods. We agreed a long time ago that we would be the ones to save Draco from himself. She's the only one who I could ever trust to have my back, no matter what.

Draco simply rolls his black ringed eyes at us, but doesn't pull away. He knows how pointless that would be. He gives the Goblin, who spoke a small smile and nods,

"Yes, that's me"

The Goblin doesn't smile, or even really change his bland expression, but I see an earnestness in his eyes that speak of something long awaited finally coming to pass. I see the same expression on many of the other Goblin's faces when I risk a glance at them.

"My name is Stark, young Spavez. We are honoured to meet you, as well." The Goblin, apparently named Stark, says to Draco.

"Ok, either that was a word in a different language, or they just called Draco a spaz" Hermione whispers to me. Only half joking.

"Who are 'we' exactly, can I ask?" Draco leans forward a little, seemingly enchanted by the Goblins' presence.

"The Goblins of the North Sun, young Spavez" Another Goblin speaks up, this one bigger, and much older looking. He sits at the tallest marble table, wearing a finely tailored looking suit. He has wisps of grey hair on his head, and a nose so pointed that it looks like a blunt knife.

Hagrid clears his throat before Draco can ask any more questions, and says in a rumbling tone of voice,

"I've brought and Mr. Black here ter take some money outta t'her vaults," and he makes his way over to the tall marble desk.

As curious as I am about all this, I'm also grateful that attention has been turned away from Draco. The way they were looking at him was far too much like the way all those people were looking at me earlier. Although I can't imagine what reason they would have for reacting to Draco like that. I mean, Draco is strangely beautiful, and many people have been captivated by him in the past, but never quite like this.

Hermione seems just as confused as I feel, but she wisely doesn't say anything, merely giving me a 'we'll be discussing this alone later'. Yes, we will be.

Draco seems desperate to ask more questions, but manages to curb the need somehow. He sighs under his breath and turns away from Stark with an apologetic look on his face. We walk together up to the main desk where Hagrid is standing in front of the second bigger Goblin.

The older looking Goblin who seems to be in charge, asks Hagrid,

"Do you have their keys, Sir?"

"Got 'em 'ere somewhere," Hagrid mutters as he digs through the numerous pockets on his long trench coat. The Goblin watches Hagrid with slight disinterest, and I notice him slide a look at Draco more than once. It puts me on edge a little, and I almost want to tell Hagrid to forget it and that we'll go back and get the money from Dalia and Adam, like we originally planned.

Eventually though, he pulls out two very different keys. One is small and silver, the end twisting into the shape of a flickering flame, and the other is soot black and in the shape of a dragon's head.

The big Goblin leans forward and scrutinises the two keys for a very long moment.

"Everything seems correct here."

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," says Hagrid, like it's the proudest moment of his life or something, "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

The Goblin reads the letter carefully, and I wonder what could be so important that they're pulling out the 'you know what' rubbish, but at the same time Dumbledore trusts someone like Hagrid to retrieve it. While Hagrid seems like the kind and loyal sort, he's also not exactly the model of stealth. And who picks up valuable secret things in front of three children? Does Dumbledore really expect us not to try and find out what it is? The man didn't strike me as someone who did things on a whim, which just makes the whole situation that much more suspicious.

"Alright then, I'll have someone take you down to the vaults," Head Golbin rumbles, "Vanar!"

Vanar immediately appears from around a desk, and comes striding over to us. Without anything other than a bow and a quick appraisal of Draco, Vanar begins leading us off to a door on the far side of the great marble room.

"What do you think the secret thing is in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Hermione whispers into my ear. I slide a glance her way and shrug.

"I think we may have a mystery on our hands all ready for us when we get to Hogwarts," I whisper back with a small smirk of amusement.

Hermione raises an eyebrow, but fails to hide the spark of interest in her dark eyes. I feel something like excitement zing through my mind at the thought of finding out a big secret. Especially with Hermione by my side. Draco may be the one person in my life who I trust with all my  _own_  secrets, but Hermione will always be my, for lack of a better term, partner in crime.

Draco apparently decides to go for the more direct approach, as he asks Hagrid,

"What's the Youith-Knowith-Whatnot thingy in vault seven hundred and...whatever...it was?" He turns back to me, "There was definitely a three in there somewhere, yeah?"

I don't reply, because it's hard to tell when Draco is being serious, or just taking the mick for the sake of his own amusement. He's not stupid by any means, so I tend to assume he's joking. Mostly.

"Can't tell yeh that," Hagrid says, a frown on his face, "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that much, lad"

Every time he says the word 'secret', I swear it only serves to make the three of us become more and more invested in finding out what it is. It would probably be safer just to tell us what the big 'secret' is, in the end. But adults are rarely that wise.

**Draco's P.O.V**

We follow Vanar down a corridor that looks more like the inside of a volcano than a bank. I feel almost giddy with excitement the more I watch Vanar. I want to know  _everything_  about Goblins. I really hope they have books I can read about them at Hogwarts. It's so wicked that Goblins exist. It makes me wonder what other legend based creatures must exist as well.

I vow to myself that I will find out more about Goblins, and any other magikal creatures. I want to know what their dynamic is with humans. Are they treated well? Are magikal creatures considered equal to Witches and Wizards? And if not, then why not? Is there any kind of class system? Do magikal creatures have their own laws and gouvernment? All these questions, and many more, keep bobbing around inside my mind, and I find it almost impossible to concentrate on what we're actually doing here.

When Vanar gestures for us to climb into a cart-like contraption, I feel myself bulk just a little. It looks about as safe as a horse with one leg. I see that Hermione and Harry appear to have the same level of caution in their eyes. But we all get into the thing anyway. Because, really, what were we going to say? 'We came here to take out some Wazerd money, not to ride a ghost train! That's it, we're leaving! Off to the portal!'. No of course not. So we climb into the cart like good little dum dum's.

The cart is pretty small, so I kind of end up in Harry's lap, and Hermione kind of ends up in mine. It's a weird moment for all three of us, and mentally I think we all plan to erase it from our memory and never speak of it again. We speed off so fast that I wonder if this is a time machine and we're about to be thrust into a time vortex or something.

We rattle from side to side as the cart drives itself on the tracks. At first I try to determine a list of directions, just in case we need to make a quick escape at some point, but after a few too many sharp turns, I realise how pointless it is to even try. I keep my eyes wide open though, hoping to catch a glimpse of the supposed guard dragon. I don't see one, and I feel disappointed. Meeting a real live dragon is just about the best thing that could ever happen to me.

There's snapped bits of crystal all over the place, sticking out of the walls and the ceiling. I swear I see a few of them glowing.

Eventually we stop outside a big round door, a door that is seemingly made out of ice. At least, it looks like ice to me.

Vanar leans out over the cart and uses the silver flame key to open it up. We all gasp when we see what's inside. Piles and piles of gold and silver coins. Massive mountain-like piles. There are also crystals and gems all over the place. It looks like a pirates treasure cave.

"It's all yours, Harry" Hagrid says.

I turn to a wide eyed Harry and say,

"Jesus, you're like a bazillionaire, Bolt."

Harry snaps his attention to me, the green of his eyes seeming to glow brightly in the darkness surrounding us. But before Harry can open his mouth to speak, Hermione says thoughtfully,

"Yes, but what exactly is the exchange rate?"

Trust Hermione to ask that question.

I hush her,

"Hermon, don't ruin it," I grin at Harry, "We are so buying a hover craft."

"We are not buying a hover craft, " Harry states firmly, but then he smiles just a little and adds, "It's my money, and I want a rocket ship."

Hermione rolls her eyes and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like ' _ugh, boys_ '.

We help Harry grab a few handfuls of it and stuff the coins into a couple of bags.

Vanar closes up the volt when we're done, and then we're speeding off again at the speed of bloody sound. I feel a little like Superman's cart bound sidekick.

When we stop outside another volt, this one has a massive picture of a dragon on it, and the door appears to be made of black crystal. Vanar uses the black key to open it.

Even though we just saw all that stuff in Harry's vault, we still gasp a little at what's inside mine. Yet again we're faced with mounds of gold, and mounds of silver, and expensive jewelry, and a few items that look like special artifacts.

I turn to Harry again and hold up my hand,

"Bazillionaire high five!"

Harry stares at my hand for a long moment, giving me a look that suggests he'd rather not high five me due to the fact that he's not an imbecile. But he does it anyway, just to please me.

After collecting a few bags full of treasure from my cave of wonders, Hagrid turns to Vanar and says,

"Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please."

Vanar nods without a word, and the cart begins propelling us forward and then down into a spiral. I begin to wonder if the aim is to get people to throw up.

Vault Secret Mc Secrety, doesn't have a key hole.

We watch as Vanar tells us to stand back, eyeing me a little longer than everyone else. I know I'm not the most observant person in the world, but I even I know when I'm being especially 'noticed'.

The big door is foggy and white, like a glass of milk mixed with water. It's rather odd. But then everything up to this point has been as well, so why break the trend of the day now?

Vanar merely strokes the door, and a flicker of what I think is Cinergy flashes in the center of it. The door opens swiftly and Vanar smiles back at us.

"If anyone but a Goblin tried to open it, then they would be struck with a fire spell meant to make their insides melt."

Well that's not disturbing at all.

At first I don't see anything inside the vault, and I wonder for a moment if someone's already stolen it. But Harry nudges my arm and discreetly points out a small blue package with a piece of gold ribbon wrapped around it.

I feel like asking what it is again, but one look at Hagrid's serious expression tells me I won't get any better an answer than I did last time.

Hagird picks up the little package and carefully places it into his right breast pocket. Ohhh, now it's super safe. That pocket better have some kind of magikal stuff around or inside it, otherwise I might seriously consider questioning the validity of this worlds secret keeping skills.

"Come on, lets go," says Hagrid, "We still gotta get yer school supplies."

Soon enough we're back outside Gringotts, and bags full of money in tow, we head off to buy our Howarts stuff. Luckily Hermione remembered to bring her list of items with her.

"Best get yer uniforms first," Hagrid says, and he nods at a wide blue crystal shop with a sign that reads, 'Mistress Bluebells clothing'. Hagrid gives us a sheepish smile, "Do yeh three mind if I slip off fer a small drink in the Firewire? I hate them Gringotts carts."

We exchange glances, and Hermione and I look to Harry for a response. Harry seems to think long and hard, probably weighing our options, but eventually he sighs and says,

"Yes, of course Hagrid."

Hagrid smiles again at Harry, and nods jerkily before wandering off, leaving us outside Bluebell's.

We follow Harry into the clothing shop, and are greeted chirpily by a woman wearing a beautiful blue dress that fits her body like it was stitched onto her that way. It looks to be made of some kind of silk. She seems to lose herself a little when she realises who Harry is, and she whisks him off to help him 'personally'. Whatever that means.

Harry gives Hermione and I 'help me' eyes, which only serves to make us laugh. The shop seems to be full to bursting with clothes, and I leave Hermione in the girls department, or at least it seems like the girls department because that's where all the dresses are. Not that boys can't wear dresses, I suppose. I mean, I wouldn't want to wear one, but that's more of a personal choice rather than a prejudice against dresses.

Another woman comes out of woodwork just as I'm looking at a few leather jackets, wondering if it's real leather, and who I can complain to if it is. As well as not eating animals, I am also strong against wearing the dead carcass parts of them, strangely enough. This woman looks a little like Jasmine from that Disney movie 'Aladdin'. Her clothes are similar too, with the pale blue puffy trousers and stomach exposing top. A strange marking spindles up over her equally exposed shoulder. It looks a little like a blue bird of some kind, but I can't be sure from this angle. The girl also looks a lot like the very tall and willowy Mistress Bluebell, and I wonder if this is her daughter or something.

"Hogwarts, sweetheart?" she asks with a bright smile, she tilts her head to the side, "Wow, aren't you a pretty one, those  _eyes_...let me just get a few different style Hogwarts uniforms up together and you can try them on, ok."

I'm not sure if I should feel flattered by the 'pretty' comment, I've been putting up with that kind of thing all my life, so I'm used to it now anyway. I nod politely at the young woman and say,

"Thank you, my name's Draco." I give her my best smile, and she just about squeals in delight. Girls seem to like it when I smile at them like that. I have no idea why. Dalia says I'll understand when I'm older. Hermione says she doubts that very much.

"I'm Zara, nice to meet you Draco, " she says to me with a wink.

Zara leaves me in the back of the shop and goes off to get the clothes for me try on. After she leaves a boy about my age comes out of the dressing rooms. The boy is small and thin looking, and his face is pinched into a very unattractive look of annoyance. I realise then that this is my first official meeting with a person my age who is also a Wizard.

The boy looks me up and down and says,

"Hello. Hogwarts too, yes?"

How do people even know that? Do I give off some kind of Hogwarts smell? Bleegh, that's a freaky thought, I take that back universe.

Attempting to make a good first impression, I take a step forward and smile kindly at the boy,

"Apparently, yeah."

_**Yes, good start Draco, you didn't insult him by accident in the first five seconds, that's a new record.** _

"My father is a few shops down, buying some new water crystals" the boy says, his voice snippy and arrogant in that way only rich people's children can sound, "I think I'll guilt him into buying me a new Volant board."

Ok, I can see this going down hill very fast if he's going to use that posh 'I'm so much better than everyone' voice AND make up words.

"Do you have  _your own_  Volant board?" the boys asks with a definite sniff at my slightly, ok very, battered jeans.

I shrug,

"I have my own ironing board, if that means anything to you."

The boys eyes widen comically,

" _What_?"

"Sorry, that was a lie. It's more of a family owned ironing board, and I'm technically not allowed to use it ever since that time I tried to ride it down the stairs."

The boy appears to ignore my answer, which to be honest is fair enough, as I don't really know what we're talking about anyway.

"Do you even play Xenta?" the boy asks derisively.

Nope. Not a real word.

I think it's best if I wrap this up quickly.

"What was your name again?" I ask, not answering his question about...Xenta, or whatever.

Stringy narrows his little bug-like eyes at me and says pompously,

"Theodore Nott."

Alright, here we go.

I slap a hand over my mouth and say in the same tone everyone's been using with Harry,

"Woah, seriously, you're  _Theodore Nott_? As in THE Theodore Nott?"

Stringy nods with florish,

"Yes."

I hold my hands, clasped, to my chest and put on my best awed expression,

"This is an honour, no wait, a  _privilege,_  to meet you in person, Mr. Nott."

Brain, where are going with this?  ** _Shhhh, Draco, I'm busy doing something weird_.**  Well carry on then.

Stringy blinks in surprise at me for a second, but then something like smugness enters his tone and he nods,

"Of course. Glad to see that some people know good breeding when they see it."

'Good breeding'? What is he, a poodle?

"Can you cross a poodle with a human in this world?"

"What?" Stringy asks, looking bewildered.

I realise then that I said that last part out loud. Whoops.

"I just mean, is there cross breeding in the magikal world. Like, is that possible using magik? Is magik in any way connected to science, actually?" I say all this out loud to myself, because by now, there is no way I'm saving this conversation.

Stringy peers at me in slight disgust and asks,

"Are you mentally deranged?"

Wow, rich Wizards are rude. Can't a boy ask about human cross breeding without it being weird?

 ** _Ok, I'm your inner crazy voice, and I even I know that sounded stupid._** Shut up.  ** _Never._**

"Know what house you'll be in yet? It depends on your element of course, do you have any idea what yours might be?" Stringy asks, having apparently decided to ignore my apparent insanity in favour of hearing himself talk.

"Can't say I do, no." I reply steadily, wondering where the flip Zara is with my escape excuse...I mean clothes to try on.

"Well, no one really knows until after the unlocking ceremony, obviously, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been. Ugh, imagine being sorted into Hufflepuff, wouldn't that just be so embarrassing?"

More made up words!

"Here you go, sweetheart, try these and see if they look ok." I hear Zara say from behind me.

"Thank you, Zara. " I turn around and grin widely at her in thanks.

I grab the clothes out of her arms and give Stringy a two finger salute before rushing off into the changing rooms.

Not long after that, Harry comes to find me, having finally escaped Mistress Bluebell after only being marginally praised to death. We try on our clothes together, and I frown a little at my reflection.

Hermione turns out to be in the changing room on theother side of me, and we all come out to show each other our respective uniforms.

"They're very...white." I say carefully.

And they are. Apparently Hogwarts school uniforms are all completely white. It's made of a strange kind of material as well, as it seems to almost mold to the shape of your body so it fits perfectly. I wonder if that's actually magik, or what.

Hermione is wearing a long floaty dress that looks like something a young Greek goddess might have once worn. She looks pretty, I guess, if you like that sort of thing. She seems pleased with it, whatever the case.

Harry and I are wearing almost identical pairs of fitted trousers, although mine stop a little after my knee, whereas Harry's go all the way to his ankles. Our tunics are similar as well, but mine is short sleeved, and Harry's is long sleeved. My belt is thicker than Harry's, but Harry is also wearing boots instead of light slip on shoes like me.

Anyway, it's all white.

Zara comes around the corner then and claps in excitement at us,

"Oh, don't you all look wonderful!"

"Is there a reason why Hogwarts uniforms are white?" Hermione asks studiously.

Harry and I nod, as if agreeing with the question.

Zara's laugh is like tinkling bells, and she shakes her head,

"Don't you know anything about Hogwarts? No, your clothes are made out of pure Cinergy, we use Psionic Materialization to make them."

Huh?

"What exactly is Psionic Materialization?" Harry asks with interest.

Zara tilts her head and then laughs again,

"Wow, your parents didn't tell you much, did they. Psionic Materialization, otherwise known as Manifestation, is the ability to create any physical object using Cinergy. It takes incredible skill and focus to learn that ability, but it's definitely worth it when you get it right."

We all need a very long moment to absorb that scrap of amazingness.

"So, why do you make Hogwarts uniforms out of Cinergy?" Hermione asks, looking determined this time to get a proper answer we'll actually understand.

Zara smiles delightedly at us and explains,

"Well, it's so that when your element is unlocked, your clothes will change to the colour of your house, as the Cinergy will latch onto the element inside your core. We've designed the clothing purposefully to do that. It's quite fantastic, so don't worry, they won't be just white for very long."

Wow, this just keep getting better and better.

...

"So what is Xenta?" I ask Hagrid a little while later once we've mostly finished with our shopping.

"It's like a...sport, " Hagrid replies, "A Wizard sport. It's like — like football in the Muggle world — everyone follows Xenta — played up in the air on boards and there's four balls...well technically five balls — sorta hard ter explain the rules. I'm sure they'll tell ya more about it at Hogwarts."

"How about Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"

"Those are two of the four houses at Hogwarts. You'll each be sorted in'ta one of 'em."

Hermione almost lost her mind when we were in one of the book shops, she had a stack of books as tall her own body ready to be bought within the first five minutes. I looked for all the books on magical creatures, and found a whole section on them, which excited me endlessly. Harry had wandered into the Dark Magik section, his eyes gleaming with something akin to fascination.

We buy everything we need, and a few extras for education/enjoyment purposes. I never thought I'd dork out this much about some books, but when I saw one entitled ' _History of the Dragon: Names and scales edition'_ , I just about jumped through the roof.

Harry and I almost had a massive argument when Hagrid insisted on buying Harry an owl. Harry argued that it would be useful to have an owl so that we could send post to Dalia and Adam whilst away at school. I argued that just because Owl's can be tricked into delivering post, it doesn't mean we should take advantage of that fact.

Eventually Hermione cut in and said we should compromise by getting an owl and paying it ourselves to deliver post. I dubiously agreed to the bargain, and not long after that we were walking through Diagon Alley with two owls. The shop owner said that they're twins. One of them is all white, and the other is all black. Ying and Yang, we decided to call them.

The three of us continuously thank Hagrid for a good ten minutes before coming to stop outside a strangely shaped shop. It looks almost completely round, almost like a dome, and the walls appear to be made of a sparkling silver crystal. The sign reads simply 'Destiny's Rings'.

Hagrid nods at the shop and says,

"Just Destiny's left now, only place fer gettin' your crystal ring, and yeh gotta have the best ring, because it's fer life."

For life? Just how important is this whole crystal ring business? Anyway, this is part we've all really been looking forward to. I've noticed every Witch and Wizard so far wearing some kind of beautiful ring, every one of them completely unique. I wonder what mine will be like.

We make our way inside, only to gasp loudly at what looks to be a cave of crystals. There are crystals everywhere, on every free surface and patch of space. The room feels like it's literally humming with untapped power. It's  _incredible_.

There's a big glass table in the center of the room, also full up with smaller crystals. The table is round, and it has a big hole in the middle of it that seems accessible through a narrow gap in the table itself. We move towards it quickly to take a closer look.

Suddenly a very tall dark skinned man comes bursting out from behind a curtain at the back of the room. His eyes are pure gold, and his smile is dynamic to say the least. He focuses on us straight away and comes over, stopping on the other side of the table.

"Good afternoon, children," the man says, "My name is Dusty, I hope to help you acquire the ring that is meant for you.

Hermione's eyes are so wide and shocked that I worry she might fall over, and Harry is the one who says,

"Hello, yes we would like...help, with that."

Dusty's hair is long and silky black, and it seems to almost shine. His teeth are pure white, and when he smiles they glint just like any of the crystals surrounding them.

"Yes, yes, it's very interesting to meet you, Mr. Potter." He turns those eyes to me then, and I find myself captivated, "And you of course, Mr. Black," after a lingering glance at me and Harry, he then turns a smile on Hermione, "You as well, Miss Granger, don't think I'd forget you."

Dusty glances up at Hagrid then and his smile turns into something completely different,

"Well hello, Rubeus, sugar, how have you been?"

Hagrid shuffles his feet and smiles almost shyly,

"Good...um...thank you...uh...Dusty."

Dusty smirks a little, but turns back to us and says in a low smooth voice,

"Well then, Mr. Potter, lets start this off with you, shall we," He indicates down at the large array of crystals, "Just step on through to the middle for me, please."

Harry looks uncertain for a moment, but then slides through the gap until he's standing in the middle of the table, crystals all around him. Dusty nods and smiles,

"Right then, put your hand out and close your eyes. " Harry does so with another short pause beforehand, and Dusty continues, "Now focus, push everything from your mind and think of nothing but the crystals. Then pick up whichever one feels right."

"But I can't see which one I'm picking up." Harry says in confusion.

Dusty arches an eyebrow and nods again,

"There is more than one way to truly see, Mr. Potter. Now concentrate, or we'll be here all day."

Harry makes a frowning face, and I think for a moment he's about to snap something back. But he doesn't, and instead his focus seems to shift back to the crystals. There's a long pause, and Harry turns a few times before stopping and reaching down to pick up a smooth bright green stone. Harry opens his eyes then and looks down at the crystal in slight surprise.

Dusty holds out his own hand and Harry gives him the stone.

"Very interesting. This is called Agate. Agate is a stone of strength and cunning." Dusty explains, turning the stone over expertly in his hands, "Choose again Mr. Potter, you get three chances. Make it count."

Harry nods once, and then closes his eyes again. This time it takes a little longer, but eventually Harry picks up a shiny black stone. He gives it to Dusty again, who says,

"Ah, this is Hematite. It's a grounding and protective stone that energises and vitalises the physical body. It promotes ambition, determination, self esteem and willpower."

Harry closes his eyes one last time, and ends up picking a stone almost instantly. This one is dark blue and slightly jagged. Harry gives this one up a bit more reluctantly than the others.

Dusty's eyes widen considerably, and he looks almost panicked, but that dies away after a few moments and he smiles tightly,

"Tourmaline. Blue Tourmaline is a very supportive stone that protects us from external influences, dispersing stress, tension and negative energy. It grounds and anchors light and dark energy within the physical body, promoting inner wisdom, mastery, individuality, stability, bravery and patience bringing peace to the heart and mind."

That sounds pretty good. So why do I get the feeling it's a bad thing.

"Is there a problem?" Harry asks, "Does that stone mean something...dangerous?"

Dusty is quick to shake his head, although the worry in his golden eyes is palpable,

"No, nothing bad about this stone in particular...but the combination of the three you chose...is very...irregular."

"In what way?" Harry asks. Hermione and I exchange a casual glance, but I see the tension in her eyes, and te answering tension reflected back at me in my own.

Dusty swallows hard and looks intently at Harry,

"I have only ever created a ring using these three  _specific_  stones in that  _particular_  order, once in my lifetime. Strength. Ambition. Bravery. Those are your core traits according to the stones you chose, Mr. Potter. It's interesting, because the person I created that one other ring for is the same person who gave you that scar on your forehead."

Uh oh.

Harry doesn't say anything, and his face has gone into 'no emotions' mode. His body is stiff like a statue as well, both of which means he's feeling very strongly about something, and he doesn't want anyone to know about it.

I want so badly to reach out to him, but I also know that would just make things worse for Harry. He must be concetrating on keeping his power under control so nothing explodes around him.

Dusty goes on to say gravely,

"I suppose we must now expect extraordinary things from you, Mr. Potter. For You-Know-Who may have been an evil man, but he was also extraordinary."

Well that's not helping.

It's Hermione's turn next, and she takes a very, very long time picking out her first stone. It's rather large and light blue.

"Fluorite." Dusy says, looking a little more relxaed now that he's moved on from Harry, "Fluorite promotes focus, intuition and understanding. It helps to bring chaos into order, promoting stability, free thinking and clear unbiased reasoning."

Yep, sounds like Hermione to me.

Hermione picks out her second stone faster, and hands it to Dusty with a satisfied smile on her face. The crystal is purple and pointy.

"Spirit Quartz. A nice choice, Miss Granger." Dusy looks the crystal over a few times before continuing, "Spirit Quartz is also known as Fairy Quartz, its uplifting, high vibration energy makes it excellent for psychic awareness, enhancing harmony and peace. Very appropriate given what you are."

Hermione frowns at that, probably assuming like me that he means muggleborns. She quickly loses her frown however when she goes to pick her final stone. This one takes the longest, and she appears to waver between two, before picking one up. This stone is a mixture of light brown and dark brown, with a little red thrown in as well.

"Very different, this is Tigers eye." Dusy gives Hermione an approving smile, "Tigers Eye brings confidence, strength, courage, protection and good luck."

"What are my core traits then?" Hermione challenges with a wicked smile of her own. Oh yeah, tiger eye indeed.

"Understanding. Amity. Confidence. All good things that tie together wonderfully if balanced in the right way." Dusty replies readily.

Dusty drops the three stones into a small bag, just like he did with Harry's. Then he gestures at me with an appraising look on his face. Oh, my turn!

I slip into the table once Hermione comes out and without pause I close my eyes and hold my hand out. At first I feel nothing, and I begin to worry that I'm not doing it right.

"Clear your mind, Mr. Black." I hear Dusy say, as if from a great distance. I think maybe all these crystals around me are creating some kind of barrier between me and everyone else outside of the circle.

"Try not to think too much." I hear Hermione call out to me.

Right. I can do this. I push everything out of my head, focusing solely on the crystals and the way they feel around me.

It's only then that my hand lands on the first crystal, very much without me telling it to. It's like my mind just...knew. I open my eyes to see myself holding a round stone that looks like a mixture of orange and gold. I turn to Dusty and hold out the stone. Dusty takes it from me and says,

"Excellent. Calcite Golden. Calcite is a powerful amplifier and cleanser of energy. Its uplifting energy brings joy, optimism, light heartedness and self confidence. It helps to balance the emotions, boosts the memory, calms the mind, alleviates stress, enhances trust in oneself and strengthens the ability to overcome setbacks connecting the emotions with the intellect."

I agree, that does sound excellent. Go higher brain, good choice.

The next one is a lot easier, and I pick up a clear grassy green stone in the shape of a heart.

"Ah, Green Jade." Dusty explains when I give to him, "Jade is a powerful emotional balancer, nurturing and bringing peace and purity, removing negative thoughts and energy. It radiates the divine, promoting serenity, clarity of mind, courage and wisdom."

Huh, so far so good.

The third time is almost instant. I pick it up only seconds after closing my eyes again. The stone is quite small and light pink. This time Dusty smiles wider than ever before and nods towards me,

"Just as I thought. This is Rose Quartz. Rose promotes unconditional love, forgiveness, infinite peace and compassion. It creates harmony in relationships and teaches us about the true essence of love."

Yeah, ok, I can deal with that.

Dusty continues in the face of my acceptance,

"So your core traits appear to be, Optimism. Courage. Compassion. Also rare, and very difficult to balance once chaos descends."

Better make sure to keep the chaos to a minimum then. Officially noted.

Dusty gestures at us with a flick of his fingers and says,

"Wait here, and I'll go make your rings. Don't worry, they don't take long once the Cinergy sets to work." Then he moves off, taking our chosen crystals with him back behind the thick curtain he came out of before.

I slip out of the circle, and my hearing returns to normal, which is a relief, because having everything be muffled was getting a little annoying.

I smile widely at Hemione and Harry, who both seem rather excited. Although I can tell Harry is still struggling with his emotions. It makes me angry that the universe keeps coming up with ways to hurt him. I give into temptation then, and reach out to brush my fingers over Harry's hand. I do the same to Hermione so that we're all connected.

We talk quietly amongst ourselves for a while about what we've seen, and what we've bought. But eventually, Dusty comes striding back into the room holding three small felt bags. He hands one to each of us, and we pay for the rings before taking them out of the bags and sliding them onto our ring finger. The three crystals have been cut into much smaller shapes, and the band of mine black. Harry's band is silver, and Hermione's is gold.

Dusty eyes us for a moment and then says,

"These rings are your destiny, once you wear them, it would be a good idea never to take them off. They will fit you perfectly, the Cinergy will take care of that. Once your element is unlocked, you will be able to use the ring to better control your powers. Your ring will focus your Magik as long as you allow it to."

For whatever the reason, this moment feels ominous, and for once we ask no questions. We merely nod in understanding.

When we leave the shop, the  **Legilimency**  mirror begins to glow from the inside of Hermione's bag. We quickly take it out, and are pleased to discover Dalia and Adam looking out at us from inside the mirror. They looks worried and relieved at the same time.

"Are you all ok? Safe? What have you been up to?" Dalia asks lightning fast, at the same time Adam asks simply, "See anything really cool?"

We all exchange a heavy glance, unable to hid our smiles and smirks. Harry says,

"We have so much to tell you."

And you know, this is just the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading! xxx
> 
> Also, for any experts on crystals out there, I did take creative licence with some of these, although I also did a lot of research first just to get an idea about them. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter anyway. xxx
> 
> AND, to anyone who notices punctuation problems or spelling mistakes, please let me know. I do try to edit these carefully, but some things just slip through the cracks, you know. xxx
> 
> Sorry, one last thing, Harry, Hermione and Draco are all equal main characters and will get their own story lines to focus on, just so you know. xxx


	5. A Train for a Toad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)

** A Train for a Toad ** **   
**

** Hermione's P.O.V **

The last few months before school was set to start were interesting to say the least. Dalia and Adam had listened in almost wary awe as Harry, Draco and I had described our visit to Diagon Alley. I think Dalia had a mini heart-attack when Draco started going on about Goblins and Dragons. Ever since he bought those books on magikal creatures, he's been reading them non-stop. He says he wants to know as much as he can so that he'll be prepared.

Finally, a passion I can understand, even if not in the same context.

Although Dalia and Adam had merely exchanged a horrified glance, and asked Draco what he wanted to be prepared  _for_ exactly. Draco had looked at them in all seriousness and answered indignantly  _"Well, how can I possibly hope to become their friend, and therefore learn everything I need to know about them, if I don't even understand the basics. From what I've read so far, someone clearly needs to be on their side. I suppose that someone will have to be me, unless somebody more qualified comes along."_

Harry and I looked at each other after Draco said that, and the shared smirk between us just said it all. I can practically see it now, little pixie faced Draco going round to all sorts of dangerous magikal creatures and offering them his help. I honestly don't know whether to be worried, or offer to be his interpreter, because God knows no one outside of our family speaks fluent Draco.

Harry has been very much enchanted with a book called 'Defensive Dark Magik'. I told him it sounded a bit too advanced for us, and he gave me a look that clearly meant 'maybe it would be for  _you'_. But he didn't actually say it out loud, so I couldn't technically be upset with him. Besides, I know he wouldn't do anything crazy or dangerous, at least not unless he knew exactly what the consequences would be. He wouldn't put Draco or I at risk, I truly believe that with everything in me. Harry may not particularly care for most people, but the few he does care for will always be well protected by him.

There were no major arguments, other than Dalia insisting that the boys not take their snakes with them, and Draco and Harry refusing to leave them behind. There is a list of approved animals, and snakes are definitely not on it. Cats are though, and I'm glad because there's no way I was leaving Chesire at home.

Dalia argued that they had Ying and Yang now, and so they didn't need two sets of animal sidekicks. Draco argued back that Vita and Spero, the snakes, are their friends, not their pets, and that Ying and Yang are paid workers, like personal postmen.

Dalia said that in that case, they definitely shouldn't take the snakes, as no other children are taking their childhood muggle friends with them to school. Harry then insisted that Vita and Spero would break free of their tank and go in search of himself and Draco anyway, so they might as well just come now and save everyone the stress.

Dalia eventually relented, as I always knew she would. But she would only let the boys take their snakes to Hogwarts if they agreed not to take them to any lessons. Draco and Harry agreed to that condition happily, although I'm not sure if Vita and Spero will deign to follow any rules set to them by humans. According to Harry and Draco, snakes can be quite proud creatures.

Right before we came home, Hagrid handed us our train tickets for the Hogwarts express. Adam remarked how strange it was that a group of powerful beings decided the best way to travel was by train.

I told him it was tradition, which according to my new favourite book of all time 'History of Hogwarts', it is. There are apparently a lot of odd traditions at Hogwarts, such as the housing system, and the history of the founders themselves is rather weird. But, in truth, I find it all fascinating. Who wouldn't?

There was also some confusion over the station itself. We didn't look properly until the day of our departure, which was stupid of us really, but after everything that had already happened, I just assumed it would become clear once we got there. Like there would be some magikal entrance that only the three of us would be able to see.

Once we actually arrived at the station, however, it became clear that we really should have contacted Dumbledore or something to make sure of the details. Adam refuses to ask anyone where platform nine and three-quarters is.

"I can't go up to someone and ask that, they'll think I'm mad. Or drunk." Adam says, eyeing the ticket again like it's the pinnacle of all evil.

"Or both." Dalia adds with a small grimace.

I begin to wonder at the Magikal world's way of doing things, as so far a lot of their ideas seem badly planned out on all fronts. I also start to worry that we'll never figure out how to find this train, and since we only have another ten minutes until eleven, which is when the train to Hogwarts is meant to leave, it's not looking good.

So here we all are, standing in the middle of a busy train station with two big owls, two snakes, three massive trunks and feeling more and more ridiculous with every minute that passes.

"Do you think there's a bus replacement service?" Draco asks with a thoughtful expression on his face. None of us dignify that with a response, and I'm pretty sure Draco didn't expect us to. I'm not even sure if he was speaking to anyone other than himself.

I'm just about to take out my new Hogwarts history book and look up how to catch the train, when Harry nudges my side. I follow his gaze over to a group of people who have the same kind of trunks as we do. That's somewhat promising. I watch as those people run at a brick wall and seemingly pass right through it. Huh. Witches and Wizards do seem to have a thing for portals.

We get Draco to look just in time as the last person passes through the brick wall. He laughs loudly and declares,

"Right, then, which one of us is going first this time?"

Dalia and Adam seem confused, and we explain to them what we just saw.

"But...I didn't see anything," Adam says, his brown eyes wide as he stares at the portal/brick wall.

"There must be some kind of protective magik over it." Harry replies kindly, obviously trying to placate Adam.

"Off we go then, or you'll miss the train completely," Dalia starts moving us forward even before she's finished speaking.

We all eye the brick wall warily for a long moment, not quite sure how to go about it. Is there some kind of magikal word we're meant to say, or think? Do we have to use our rings?

Harry seems to be having the same kind of thoughts as he looks down at his ring speculatively. We took Dusty's words to heart, and haven't removed our rings since we put them on over a month ago. At first I worried that they might get damaged or rusty, but even after all this time they still look as magnificent as they did when we bought them.

I think about all the ways this could go wrong, and consider looking inside my history of Hogwarts books anyway, just in case.

But then, as usual, Draco pretty much smashes through all barriers of worry or caution and starts running towards the wall at full speed with his cart, shouting "OPEN SESAME!", like an insane person. I'm all ready to wince when he actually hits the wall itself, but then he's just...gone. The same as those other children from before. Simply gone. Complete and utter madness. I exchange a glance with Harry, and he shakes his head, mouthing 'impulsive idiot', and I snort out a laugh.

"Oh for goodness sake,  _that boy_ ," Dalia snaps, sounding exasperated beyond measure. But then she always sounds a little bit like that when discussing Draco. He brings it upon himself in spades, especially when he pulls stunts like this. Which, by the way, is all the time.

Harry and I turn to hug and say our own personal goodbyes to our guardians, me holding on tight to Adam as he squeezes me to death, and Harry kissing Dalia on the cheek. A rare show of affection for Harry, which means he really is going to miss her. Harry and Adam share a briefer hug, but when they pull back there is so much emotion crackling between them that I almost turn away, thinking it too private a moment.

"You're the one who started it all, son," Adam says to Harry, so quietly that I have to strain to hear it. His eyes are glistening, and Dalia is already crying silently, her expression one of acute loss. I almost well up myself, but manage to restrain myself. This is a happy day. It's a day for new beginnings. Plus, we'll be seeing them at Christmas. I keep telling myself these things over and over again, and no, it doesn't really help at all.

When I'm finally ready, sort of, and Harry is standing at my side, he reaches over and squeezes my hand. Harry asks,

"Ready HG?"

I nod at him with a small smile,

"Ready, HP."

With one last glance back at Dalia and Adam, Harry and I head towards the portal.

New beginnings indeed.

**Draco's P.O.V**

"There you are!" I exclaim when Harry and Hermione come through the barrier, with a lot more dignity than I did, if we're being honest. I've been loitering near the arch way/other side of portal, for the last few minutes. People give you strange looks when you loiter. Apparently to some people 'loitering' equals 'evil doer', and it doesn't seem to matter if you're a muggle or a Wazerd. Some things never change.

Harry gives me harsh look and says coolly,

"Must you always do everything in the craziest way possible?"

I lean in closer to him and a scowling Hermione and say,

"Yes, it's part of my contract with the Universe. I always do what feels right at the time, and the Universe spares my life in death defying situations. It's all very give and take, if you see what I mean."

Hermione shakes her head,

"No, Drake. I do not see what you mean. No one ever does."

I make a face at her,

"A bit rude, Hermon. This is a special day."

She narrows her eyes at me and mutters,

"I'll give you 'special day' in a minute, you big dummy."

I wave a hand at her,

"Alright, alright, no need to give me a good verbal smackdown by calling me a 'big dummy'."

Harry rolls his eyes at me in a rare show of annoyance, and talks over Hermione's indignant sputtering,

"Just try not to do anything too ridiculous until we actually get to Hogwarts, Dragon."

My smile falters a bit at Harry's serious tone, and I wonder if I've actually upset him. I would hate to do that. I was just trying to help. Harry must see all that written clearly on my face, because he sighs heavily and his face morphs into a gentle smile. It's a smile that I know is only ever meant for me, and sometimes Hermione whe she's upset about her parents or something important like that.

"I'm sorry," I say to both Hermione and Harry, "I guess I didn't really think it through that much."

Hermione actually smiles at that, her brown eyes brightening,

"You never do, Drake, we've come to accept that fact over time."

I grin back at her,

"Wore you down, did I?"

Harry is the one who answer that, with a wry smile of his own,

"Yes, you did. One extraordinarily impulsive calamity at a time."

"I better be fast and go say goodbye to Adam and Dalia," I say, realising beleatedly that I can't leave without at least one hug from Dalia, and a last high five from Adam, "You two get on the train and I'll find you."

Harry looks unsure, as does Hermione, but after a moment they both nod. Harry reaches out and taps my shoulder,

"But be quick, no holding up the train to save a homeless pigeon, or something."

I poke my tongue out at him and reply,

"No need to be jealous of my hero skills, Bolt. You'll always be the one with the mighty forehead of ultimate power, and the scar of impending doom."

Then, before Harry can attack, I rush back at the wall, moving through the portal with surprising ease.

Dalia and Adam are still there, standing not that far away, their heads bent towards each. Adam pulls Dalia into a hug, and my heart slams hard inside my chest at the look of devastation on Dalia's face. I move towards them, conscious of how time sensitive this goodbye will have to be.

I'm really excited about Hogwarts, but at the same time, leaving Dalia and Adam is really hard. I can't even really imagine not seeing them every day.

"Oh, honey, you didn't need to come back," Dalia says when she catches sight of me, tears are running down her face, and her voice sounds thick. But even now, Dalia puts on her best smile and tries not to look as upset as she obviously is. I think we all know where Harry got his 'show no weakness' attitude from.

"I wanted to come back and say goodbye," I say honestly, and Adam smiles at me, obviously grateful that I knew the right words to say without any prompting.

I get my long hug from Dalia, and my high five from Adam, and then I'm rushing back towards the brick wall. I look back over my shoulder and call out,

"I love you." I know most boys my age would be embarrassed to say that out loud to their parents. But not me, I know full well how lucky I am to have them.

Dalia and Adam call back that they love me too, and I turn towards the portal with a smile on my face. I almost collide, however, with another boy who's about to pass through the portal.

I hear a woman ask,

"Now, off you go, try and behave yourselves for once."

The woman is plump and red headed, and she has a kind face. She's holding onto a young red headed girl's hand, and shooing at two bigger boys who appear to be twins.

When the woman catches sight of me, she smiles,

"Hello, dear, first time at Hogwarts too?"

I smile back at her genuinely and nod,

"Yes, ma'am, it is. Or at least I hope so, that would be quite a thing to forget happening to oneself."

The woman ignores my more eccentric words, as most people tend to do, and nods towards another boy who seems to be about my age. He's tall, red headed, and awkward-looking.

"It's Ron's first time as well," she says, "Both of you better hurry now, time is getting on."

I acknowledge the boy, Ron, with a raised eyebrow, and he replies with a shrug. So far, so good.

I run on through the portal, which is almost empty by now since everyone else is already on the train. I rush towards one of the open doors, and attempt to heft my trunk and other belongings through and into the train. Ying gives a fluttering hoot of displeasure as I almost drop her cage on the floor.

" _Maybe you should ask for some help with that, the trunk looks heavier than you are."_  Vita hisses into my ear.

Vita is hidden under my clothes, his body wrapped around mine and his head is near my shoulder. Harry and I asked our snakes to be very quiet and not talk to us until we get to Hogwarts. But as usual Vita, much like myself, disregards any rules put to him. Spero, Harry's snake, is far more composed and well mannered, it's likely that Spero won't make a peep throughout the whole train journey.

Just my luck to befriend the rebellious snake.

Suddenly I feel the weight of my trunk significantly lightened, and I hear a voice saying,

"Need a hand?"

I glance up to see one of those red headed twins staring right at me with a look of amusement on his face. I smile in relief,

"Yeah, actually, that would be smashing."

Smashing? What are you talking about, brain?

"Smashing?" the boy questions as he helps me lift my baby whale size trunk.

I open my mouth and will my mind to make me say something not weird,

"I have thesaurus worthy diction."

Well thank you very much mind. This is why I shouldn't talk to other human beings, because I end up sounding like I should be wearing a special badge with my name on it.

"Cool," the boy says, "Good diction is very important." I know he's mocking me, but that's still better than shoving me and my baby whale off the train in fear of my general madness.

"Hey, George, come over here and help me with this!" the boy yells over his shoulder.

A few moments later his twin brother comes over and gives me a manic smile, before bending to help his brother, apparently named Fred, to heft my baby whale fully onto the train.

I jump in after it with Ying. She gives me a  _look_. If you think owls can't give judgy looks, then you are very wrong. I take out a few slices of ham from my pocket (which are specifically for Ying, I don't normally just carry around meat in my jeans, I promise) and hold them out to her through the bars,

"Sorry Ying," I whisper to her. She takes the ham with a happy hoot, and I presume that I am forgiven when she doesn't bite my fingers off by 'accident'. I'm still working on making her a vegetarian owl, but so far I've been unable to convert her to the good side. It feels so weird and wrong to be carrying around meat, but it's the only thing that keeps Ying from throwing a tantrum.

"George, this boy has good diction," Fred says with a small smirk in my direction.

"Oh, rreaaallly?" George draws out the word 'really' for ages.

Now, at this point, I really should have just mumbled something meekly and excused myself. But of course that kind of normality didn't even register, and I end up saying,

"It's just the way I roll."

I mentally facepalm.

George and Fred exchange a look that clearly says they've found a new species and intend to investigate.

"You're not-"

"Like other people-"

"Are you?" The twins finish each other sentences with perfect timing. It's both creepy, and a little bit amazing.

Ron suddenly comes up behind me and asks suspiciously,

"Are we having a meeting? What are you three doing?"

"Nothing for you to be concerned about Ronnikins, this is big boy stuff."

Since Ron is practically as tall as his brothers already, I find this intensely amusing. I turn back to face Ron, moving further into the train to let him jump in next to me, and I help him with his trunk.

"Thanks," Ron says to me with a friendly smile.

I smile back at him,

"You're welcome."

"Aww Ronnikins is making fwends." One of the twins says, I've already lost track of which is which.

"Shut up." Ron snaps at his brothers, looking irritable.

I jerk my thumb back at the twins and say,

"They helped me with my baby whale."

Why...just...why?

Ron's eyes widen a little and he asks me,

"Did my brothers do something to you?"

Like what?

"Nah, I'm just...a little bit broken." I reply.

Ron actually snickers a bit at that, but he still gives his brothers a questioning look and says to them,

"You two better not have cursed him into thinking his trunk is a baby whale."

Wait, can you do that? If so, amazing! I must learn this!

The twins ignore their brother and begin talking in unison again.

"You'll never guess-"

"Who we saw-"

"On the train-"

"Just a minute ago."

"Who?" Both Ron and I ask in unison.

Ron and I look at each other in mutual horror and I say firmly,

"Lets never do that again."

"Agreed." Ron says with a nod.

"Harry Potter!"

My head snaps around to the twins.

"You saw THE Harry Potter?" Ron asks in awe, "No way."

The twins nod enthusiastically,

"We did. We did. He has the scar and everything."

"Does it look like...you know?" Ron's eyes are wide and excited.

"Like a lightening bolt. Yeah, it does."

I try very hard to keep my laughter silent. Harry is really going to struggle at Hogwarts if all the students are going to react this way to his presence. And just because I'm mean, I say to the three brothers,

"I hear that Harry Potter really loves it when people go right up to him and give him a hug. You don't even have to tell him why, just do it."

"Seriously?" Ron asks me, "How do you know that?"

I shrug,

"I'm good friend's with his  _best_  friend. So trust me, the hugging thing is completely true, feel free to tell everyone."

"We will." One of twins says, and they rush off, presumably to do just that.

Harry is gonna hate me for this.

** Harry's P.O.V **

"Did you see him get on the train?" I ask as we begin pulling away from the station.

Hermione looks up at me, a worried glint in her eyes as she replies,

"No, I didn't. But he must have made it. In fact, I'm sure he did. He'll come find us in a minute."

I raise an eyebrow and sigh. Hermione and I easily found an empty compartment, we got ourselves settled in and waited for Draco to come running through the train shouting our names. Because God forbid he ever just, you know,  ** _look_**.

I know that Draco is definitely on the train now, because I can feel him near me, and if he was still at the station I wouldn't be able to connect with his power so easily. I'm about to get up and go searching for him when suddenly I hear, as predicted,

"Bolt! Hermon!"

Hermione slides me a secret smile and I return it.

"In here, Drake." Hermione calls out during one of Draco's shouting breaks.

Suddenly the door to our compartment is slid open, revealing a beaming Draco on the other side of it.

"Decided to join us, finally." I say neutrally, eyeing him discreetly to make sure he's alright.

Draco just flicks a hand at me and says,

"I was having some whale trouble."

Hermione and I exchange a look. We don't want to know. Asking Draco what he means by any of the insane things he says would be like asking a fish to explain why it breathes under water. Pointless and confusing.

Draco moves into the compartment, and then gestures for someone to follow him. I blink in slight surprise when a tall red headed boy follows Draco tentatively inside. The boy looks nervous, like we might tell him to go away at any moment.

Draco sits down next to me and gestures for the boy sit opposite, which he does, because resisting the enthusiasm of Draco Black is futile. Hermione looks up from one of her books and raises an eyebrow, first at the new boy, and then at me. I don't respond, unsure of what I would respond with.

"This is Ron," Draco says brightly, gesturing to the red headed boy, "And then this is Bolt and Hermon," he gestures at first me and then Hermione.

Ron's eyes widen a little and he asks,

"Those aren't your real names, right?"

Not the most tactful person, clearly. I mean, those aren't our real names, true, but what if they were. I can see Hermione thinking along the same lines if her frown is anything to go by. Draco just laughs and shakes his head.

"Our names are actually Harry and Hermione," I say kindly. Or as kindly as I can manage to a stranger.

Ron nods, seeming to settle down a little now. He looks over at Draco, who gives him two thumbs up. I barely manage not to snort. Hermione is concealing an eyeroll, I can tell by the way she's not blinking. Hermione always tries to control her emotions by not blinking. I wasn't sure where she picked that up at first, but I noticed that Adam sometimes does the same thing. I suppose being raised by Adam and Dalia, for the most part, means we now have a lot of their quirks. Most of the time we don't even realise it until someone else tells us. I take it as a compliment, and I hope our Guardians do too. It hasn't always been easy for our strange little family, but we've made it so far largely unscathed. I'm just not sure if it can last. Although I'm excited about going to this school and learning all those new and wonderful things, I also can't get rid of that ominous feeling I had the moment our letters arrived. This is a new beginning for us, of course, but that doesn't have to mean better.

Of course then I make the mistake of running my fingers through my hair, and therefore pushing my bangs away from my forehead. Ron gasps, and then openly stares at me, having apparently noticed my lapse. And my scar.

"You're...you're...," Ron begins sputtering. I arch an eyebrow at him, now more used to reactions like this one. I still don't like it. At all.

"You're HARRY POTTER!" Ron practically yells. I wince inwardly. Not again.

Hermione looks over at me and tries to hide her smile with her book. But I see it in her eyes. Hermione seems to find my apparent fame very amusing, and forced me to read every article and book where my name is mentioned. By this point, thanks to my best friend, I know that the Wizarding world uses the term 'hero' very loosely. I am not a hero of any kind, I didn't DO anything. It frustrates me that no matter what I'm going to be prejudged by these people for the rest of my life because of something that happened when I was an infant. How am I ever meant to make any impact on the world if all they see is my scar? Even if I do manage to create a successful life for myself, my ludicrous claim to fame will always be what people think of first. It's a bit down-hearting.

Draco and Hermione don't seem willing to jump in and socialise for me, so I'm forced to do it myself. I look at Ron, trying to appear...friendly. I think I fail, because Ron practically flinches away from me. Yeah, I'm not the best with people, I don't smile and joke and run around like a human sunbeam the way Draco does. And I'm not endlessly friendly and relatable like Hermione is either. She makes you feel comfortable, and Draco makes you feel happy. I, on the other hand, exude a more standoffish persona. To be honest, I much prefer it that way. Although Dalia and Hermione insist I can be charming when I want to be, the word 'nice' will never be applied to my personality.

"Yes, I am Harry Potter." I say with a small nod.

"Really?!" Ron looks at me in awe.

"Yes, my name really is Harry Potter," I wonder how many times I'll have to confirm that for people before everyone realises that yes, I do indeed know my own name.

"Wow," Ron exclaims, and then he darts a glance over at Draco, "You know Harry Potter."

Draco puts on a shocked expression and then turns to me, his eyes fixated on my scar,

"Hold on, you're the famous mighty forehead of Harry Potter! I am so honoured to be in your presence Mr. Forehead of Harry Potter."

Hermione is unable to hide her laughter and I narrow my eyes at her, saying,

"Do you really have to encourage him?"

"Uh oh, I think the mighty forehead is getting angry," Hermione says to Draco.

Draco nods at her and mock whispers,

"Better not throw any death curses at it then."

They both burst out laughing. I know it shouldn't be funny, and if anyone else made comments like that then I'd be angry. I mean, they are making fun of the most horrific event of my life so far, even though I can't remember it. Mostly anyway. But then, it is Hermione and Draco, and they know exactly how I feel about it all. It actually makes me feel better that they can joke about my supposed fame. No matter what any one else thinks or says, I'll always be HP and Bolt, to Draco and Hermione, the friend and family member who they love.

Ron looks, well, startled is probably the most flattering way to put it. His eyes flicker from Draco, to me, to Hermione and then back again, like he can't quite decide who to focus on.

"Are all of your family Wazerds?" Draco asks, clearly trying to take some of the heat off of me.

Ron stares at Draco for a long moment, and then asks,

"What?"

That long a pause and all we get it 'what'?

"He means Wizards." Hermione explains.

Draco gives them both a blank look,

"Yeah, Wazerds, that's what I just said."

"What's a Wazerd?" Ron asks curiously.

I exhale in relief, at least he's distracted from me and my scar now.

"You're a Wazerd!" Draco exclaims.

Ron frowns,

"No I'm not!"

"You're not? Then why the flipping hell are you on this train?"

"Because I'm going to Hogwarts!"

"They let Puggles into Hogwarts?"

"What's a Puggle?" Ron looks really confused now, and I begin to feel bad for him.

"A Puggle is a cluster of puddles," Hermione explains again, with an evil look in her eye that says she's clearly messing with him on purpose.

Draco scoffs,

"No, a Puggle is someone who doesn't have Magik. Now, Hermon, don't go confusing the Puggle"

"Do you mean a Muggle?" Ron asks, his brown eyes wide once more.

Draco makes a frustrated sound,

"I just said that!"

"No, you said Puggle!"

"It's the same thing!" Draco throws his hands up.

"Oh." Ron frowns in thought.

"So you're definitely a Puggle?" Hermione asks, looking vastly amused.

Ron shakes his head vigorously,

"No, I'm definitely a Wizard."

Draco frowns,

"What's a Wizard?"

"He means a Wazerd." I say, unable to help myself.

Ron holds up a hand in a halting motion,

"Wait, wait," he turns to Draco, "So, a Wazerd is a Wizard and a Puggle is a Muggle?"

Draco nods firmly,

"Yeah, you got it."

Ron pauses for another moment, and then asks Draco,

"Are you completely bonkers?"

"Yes," Hermione and I answer at the same time Draco replies, "Most likely."

Ron lets out a sharp laugh and then says,

"Fair play, mate." He smiles at Draco, who smiles right back. Surprise, surprise, Draco is the first one to make a friend.

"My family are all Wizards, yeah though. The Weasleys are pretty old family I guess." Ron answers Draco's long forgotten question, "Are your parents Wizards?"

Draco flips his hand from side to side,

"Sort of. My adoptive parents Dalia and Adam are muggles, and they raised me. I'm not sure exactly who my birth parents are, but I think they were Wizards."

"Ah, that's cool. What's your second name?" Ron asks curiously.

"Black."

Ron's eyes widen,

"Black? No way, seriously? Are you one of THE Black's?" Ron practically jumps up and down in his seat.

Draco's pale eyebrows have risen,

"I'm not sure. But I have a vault with a dragon on it that my birth mother left me, if that helps."

Ron nods excitedly,

"Yeah, a dragon is the Black family's insignia. I can't believe I'm sitting in a compartment with  _Harry Potter_ , and one of the last Heir's of Black!"

Draco and I exchange a quick look, and he mouths 'do you know what he's talking about?'. I start to shake my head 'no', but then it comes to me, and I remember where I've heard 'Heir of Black' before. I should say that I've read about it before. In one of my new books, I believe it was 'Dark Blood Treasures'. Most of it was background information on Dark families. I remember reading one section about the Black family. It's quite extensive compared to other Pureblood families. I didn't get much chance to read it properly yet, but I do remember a specific part that made me laugh when I saw it. If I remember correctly it was along the lines of 'The Black family are known throughout the Magikal world for being absolutely loyal to the Dark, although they are perhaps most renowned for their status as the only British family of Dragon Lords. Every male in the Black family have been known to have this ability.' I had thought it was amusing because of Draco's last name. I did not consider that Draco was actually one of them. Or maybe I did, and I just dismissed it. I didn't want to get Draco's hopes up, only to have them dashed. Draco may not care all that much about his birth family, but he would certainly care if they had something to do with Dragons.

"What are Dragon Lords?" I find myself compelled the ask.

Draco's eyes light up like sparklers, and the strange circle of black within his iris seems to almost crackle with energy. Or perhaps Cinergy. I feel my own power simmer at the sight of it, and I try to keep myself under control. I find myself trying harder and harder to keep to grips with my own Magik the more time goes on. Hermione thinks it's because we're getting close to our unlocking ceremony, and that once our Magik is unlocked and free, we'll feel more relaxed. I have no idea if that's true or not, but as usual, Hermione said it in a way that made it almost impossible to doubt her.

Draco answers before Ron can,

"Dragon Lords are those who can communicate with Dragons and control their actions with just the power of their voice. It's said that only Dragon lords can truly know all the secrets of the dragons. How wicked is that, why do you ask?"

"Because the Black family are famous for being Dragon Lords." Ron explains, still sounding excited.

I think Draco's mind just about explodes at that point.

"That is AMAZING!"

"At least we know now why that Comodo Dragon at the zoo looked so interested in you." Hermione drawls to Draco.

I chuckle under my breathe and smirk at Hermione,

"Yes, there is that."

Draco seems lost in his own world now, his eyes so bright that I think they burn themselves out. I've never seen him so awed by something, although I suppose his interest in Magikal creatures has just been upped to full capacity.

"Did you grow up with Muggles?" Ron asks me suddenly, after a few very long minutes of staring at a jubilant Draco in that fond way most people stare at Draco when he's in this kind of mood.

Hermione answers for me with a slight grin,

"Even better, he grew up with me and Draco, AND two Muggle parents."

"Seriously, you all grew up together? In the same house? With Muggle parents?" Ron just about sputters.

I eye him thoughtfully, and then reply,

"Yes, we did. I just sort of...happened." I don't know how else to explain it because the three of us, Hermione, Draco and I, were seemingly drawn to together by either coincidence or fate. Either way, it is quite remarkable, and I'm thankful for it every day.

"How many Wizard siblings do you have?" Draco asks suddenly, seeming to have snapped out his daze long enough to pick up on the dead end conversation.

Ron turns to Draco again and says,

"Six siblings. Five older brothers and one sister."

Draco tilts his head to the side, a strange expression his face, he says,

"That must be hard for you, to be almost the youngest of seven."

Ron chews on his bottom lip for a moment and then sighs, his eyes glance between his hands and Draco,

"I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left - Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of his Xenta team. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. Sometimes I feel like I might as well not exist at all. I don't think anyone would notice." Ron seems immediately embarrassed that he shared so much. I want to tell him that he shouldn't feel bad, Draco just has that effect on people. I should know.

Hermione and I make a point of acting like we didn't hear anything, both of us looking out the window, keeping our eyes averted.

But I do see Draco's expression turn from friendly to compassionate. It's a subtle change that most people wouldn't pick up on. But I do. I always do. Draco leans forward a little and says honestly,

"I'm sure that's not true at all. Besides, even if it is, Hogwarts is meant to be a place where you can find out what you're best at. Just because you don't know what makes you special now, doesn't mean you never will."

He's using his 'I'll do just about anything to make you feel better' voice. Draco always hates to see people upset or in distress, and he usually makes it his life mission to solve other people's problems. In some ways that's what makes him so, well, special. In other ways it's the thing that worries me most about him. Because there will come a day when Draco will be forced to recognise the reality that you can't save everyone. I do not look forward to that day one bit.

Ron is looking embarrassed again, but for a whole different reason this time. He smiles gratefully at Draco and says,

"Thanks. Maybe you're right."

Draco's smile turns into a smirk when he states boldly,

"I'm always right!"

Hermione is unable to hide her snort of disagreement. Draco waves a hand at her and mock whispers to Ron,

"Don't listen to Hermon, she's just afraid to believe in my genius."

Ron barks out a short laugh, and Hermione makes a choking sound. Her voice is laced with scorn when she says,

"In what world are  _you_  a-"

Hermione is interrupted by a knock on the compartment door, we all swing around to watch as a smallish round faced boy pokes his head inside and looks at us with wide eyes. He clears his throat nervously and then says,

"Sorry...um...have you seen a toad anywhere?"

We all frown at each other in confusion, and I say,

"No, we're sorry, but we haven't seen one."

The rest of them nod in agreement, and the boy huffs quietly, his face falling.

"Oh, no, I've lost him again!"

"I'm sure you'll find him," Draco says encouragingly.

The boy seems like he's trying to smile, but it doesn't quite work. Suddenly a girl comes up behind him. The girl has bright amber eyes, and long dark brown hair, she seems to be our age. She asks the toadless boy,

"Have you found him Neville?"

The boy, Neville, shakes his head,

"No, I think he's really gone this time."

The girl's face saddens, and she places a hand on Neville's shoulder, obviously trying to be kind when she replies,

"Don't give up hope, Nev, we'll find him."

"You could try Pathfinding," Hermione suggests.

Pathfinding is basically the ability to locate objects or people by using a memory of that person/object. It's something we've never even thought of as an ability until Hermione read about it in one of her books. Apparently it's pretty useful, especially among the Magikal police. Or Auror's, as they call them.

Ron scoffs and shakes his head, but it's the new girl who says,

"Yeah, but there's no way we can do that."

Draco, Hermione and I look at her in confusion. Draco asks,

"Why not?"

The girl looks confused, her amber eyes widening slightly,

"It takes a lot of skill and power to do that."

"No it doesn't," Draco argues, "Harry and I do it all the time. We didn't even realise we were doing it until Hermione read that it's a Magikal ability."

"Well of course you two can, " Ron says with an eye roll, "I've never felt so much power before. You two must have really strong Magik."

New girl frowns and then she gasps,

"Is that what that is? I was wondering. I thought maybe it was just having so many Witches and Wizards locked in the same space."

"Nope, it's definitely Draco and Harry. I felt it right away. My dad says that you can only ever really  _feel_  the Magik of Lord level Wizards and Witches," Ron says earnestly.

"I can feel it too," Neville practically whispers, his eyes impossibly wide and staring.

"What else can you do?" Ron asks, he sits forward, seeming fully invested now.

Draco, Hermione and I exchange glances, and I shrug, answering,

"Well, I can move objects with my mind, and make things explode."

"I can manipulate people's dreams, and sometimes memories as well" Draco adds with a small smile.

"We can read minds, too," Hermione says, mirroring my shrug.

"And we can talk to some animals," Draco says after a short pause.

Neville, New girl and Ron stare at us openly, their mouths gaping. Uh oh.

I hope I don't look as confused as Draco does right now.

"Are you saying we're abnormally powerful?" I ask, trying to sound like I know what I'm talking about.

"Yeah, I can feel in properly now that I've met you," New girl says, eyeing first Draco, and then me with interest, "It's actually quite extraordinary."

"Thank you," Draco says, aiming one of those really charming smiles at the amber eyed girl. She blushes. They always do.

Huh, Lord level Wizard? Great, just one more thing to make us stand out. Before I can ask anymore, however, the girl says, sounding slightly awed,

"My name's Katie Bell, who are all of you?"

Draco takes it upon himself to answer that one,

"This is Ron Weasley," he gestures at his new friend, who grunts in reply, "Then this is Hermione Granger" He nods at Hermione, who shares a 'girl smile' with Katie. Draco then pats his own chest, "My name is Draco Black," He grins at me finally and gestures dramatically at my forehead, "And then this is the mighty forehead of Harry Potter. Feel free to bow at his greatness, the scar likes it when people bow."

"Shut up Dragon," I snap, instantly irritated.

Katie's eyes widen excitedly at me,

"Wow, you're THE Harry Potter, that's so amazing! I know all about you, my family is so grateful for what you did."

What am I meant to say to that? 'You're welcome'?

"I'm glad you feel like I helped in any way," I intone eventually, figuring that's the most diplomatic version of an answer I can come up with.

Draco invites Katie and Neville to come sit with us. It's a bit of a tight squeeze, but we manage it, and for a while we just chat amongst ourselves. Or I should say they do, and I just listen, happy to soak in information and not necessarily give it.

When we're closer to Hogwarts, Draco asks Ron,

"What House have your brothers been in?"

Ron makes a face and answers,

"Gryffindor. Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

"What element goes with each House then?" Draco asks, "We've tried to read up on it, but none of the books make it clear." Hermione nods, a frown on her face. She really hates not understanding something.

Katie answers first,

"The four Houses weren't actually meant to be for a specific element at first, but over time they realised that each element went into one of the four Houses, so they adapted the system. They believe it's because the core traits that make up each element are similar to the core traits that make up each House. For example Gryffindor is for Fire Wizards, because Fire Wizards tend to be brave and courageous warriors, and so do Gryffindor's. Hufflepuff is for Earth Wizards because Earth Wizards usually use common sense the most, and are well known for being both stable and dependable. Ravenclaw is for Air Wizards because Air Wizards often believe in a strong emphasis on rational and logical thought, ideas and intellectual pursuits. Slytherin is for Water Wizards because Water Wizards typically tend to be ambitious and cunning, using every available resource to get what they want and succeed in their personal goals."

I suppose that sort of makes sense, but it does seem awfully limiting.

"Why is Slytherin so bad?" I ask, trying not to sound too curious.

"You-Know-Who was in Slytherin," Ron says with a shudder, "All Dark Wizards go to Slytherin."

Katie coughs loudly and says in a stiff tone of voice,

"That's not actually true. Not ALL Dark Wizards and Witches go into Slytherin, that's just stupid prejudice, like saying Muggleborns are weaker than Pureblood's."

"Whatever." Ron snips, his cheeks and ears turning pink at the inadvertent scolding.

Draco rests a hand on Ron's shoulder for a brief moment and leans in to say something quietly to him. Ron shrugs a moment later, and then laughs when Draco says something else.

I feel Spero twitch beneath my clothing, and I sooth him gently with a firm, but almost silent, hiss. He wraps his body tighter around mine and I shift in my seat to get more comfortable.

Neville starts to get up and says,

"I really better go find my toad, or Grandma will kill me."

Draco jumps to his feet, with more enthusiasm than is probably warranted. He smiles gleefully at Neville and says,

"I'll come help you," He looks down at Ron and adds, "We both will."

"Will we?" Ron questions dumbly.

"Yes,  _we_  will," Draco replies with a hard, but still joyful, look at Ron. After a brief moment of staring, Ron groans and nods in agreement.

Katie smiles widely at Draco and Ron,

"I'll come too."

Neville looks a little flustered to have so many people offering to help him at once, but nods and murmurs his thanks quite a few times.

Draco looks over at me, as if asking permission. Although I know he'll just annoy me until I say yes even if I do tell him to stay here with me and Hermione. I wave a hand at him dismissively and he grins that mad grin that makes me worry he's about to do something insane.

When it's just Hermione and I left in the compartment, I look up at her and say,

"Do you think we made the right decision, going to Hogwarts I mean?" I wouldn't ask anyone but Hermione. I wouldn't let anyone else see my doubt.

Hermione sits forward and seems to think about her answer for a long time. I wait patiently.

Eventually though she says,

"I think we made the only decision that we could. We couldn't have pretended forever. This world was always waiting for us."

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face,

"I know. That's what worries me. It feels like we're heading into a storm, and there's nothing I can do to stop the lightening from striking us."

Hermione smiles tightly at me and replies carefully,

"Then let it strike. We'll be ready for it."

I reach forward a hand to clasp Hermione's, and we smile at each other knowingly.

"Bring on the storm," I whisper firmly. And it sounds almost like a spell has been cast. Or a prophecy has been unleashed.

A few minutes later I hear an ominous crackling sound, obviously coming from somewhere down the train, and Draco's distinctive voice shouting,

"Got him! Your toad is on the roof, Nev! Hold on, I'll go!"

Another very loud crash. Hermione's eyes widen and she says,

"You don't think Drake would  _actually_ -"

Crash. Crash. Crash. BANG!

"Crazy sod just climbed onto the bloody roof!" We hear someone yell.

Oh yeah, he would.


	6. Mark your Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)

** Mark your Choice **

** Hermione's P.O.V **

"You're a complete idiot!" Was one of the first things I shouted at Draco when he got down off of the roof with Trevor in hand. I hugged him to death first, of course. The maniac.

Why does he always have to do something insane and/or dangerous? It's like he wants me to have a heart attack.

He climbed onto the roof. He climbed onto the roof of the train. He climbed onto the roof of the MOVING train. I want to hit him so hard right now!

Harry is furious. Honestly, he rarely gets this angry with Draco, but this time he's crossed a line. What he did was stupid and horribly dangerous. He could have fallen off this train and died.

Died!

I can't even imagine how Dalia and Adam would feel, knowing they trusted us to go away to Hogwarts. I'm so angry at him, but at the same time I'm relieved that he's alright.

Draco's just happy he retrived the toad and made Neville happy. Everyone else on the train has been calling him a hero. Harry's definitely right, they really do play fast and loose with the word 'hero' in the Magikal world.

Ron now seems to think that Draco is the best thing on the planet, obviously, and Katie looks like she isn't far behind on that note. They stuck to his side for the rest of the train journey, and so Harry and I only got the chance to yell at him for a few minutes.

Or I should say I yelled. Harry doesn't yell. He silently seethes, which to be honest, is far scarier.

Draco is clearly working on a high right now, but I've seen him looking over at Harry every few minutes, a slight wince cracking his happy façade. He looks like he wants to apolgise, but he knows better than to try and do that in front of everyone.

I can feel the anger pouring off Harry in waves, and I think other people do as well, because they stay well clear of him. His magik feels like the cold metal of chains choking all the air out of the room.

Since Draco and I are so sensitive to Harry's magik, having been around it all our lives, we can feel it with more intensity than anyone else.

I keep contemplating touching Harry, but I'm worried his Magik might strike out in defense. Not that he'd ever truly hurt me, obviously. But I'd rather not antagonise his Magik in any way.

I'm sure Harry'll calm down eventually, but right now he just needs to be furious. Better that than him bottling it all up and exploding later.

Once we actually arrive, a deep soulful voice tells us to leave all our baggage on the train as it will be taken to Hogwarts separately. I find myself feeling dubious about doing so, especially since I'm pretty sure Chesire counts as baggage to these people.

But eventually I relent when Harry leans over to wrap a hand around my wrist. He squeezes reassuringly and whispers,

"Everything will be ok, I promise. I'll make it ok."

Even though there's still a strain of anger lacing his tone, I can tell he's trying to make me feel better. The power behind his voice is unmistakable, and I have no doubt that if something does happen to Chesire, or Ying and Yang, then he will make Hogwarts regret it. Badly.

Even though I know he can't actually promise that everything will be ok, I still believe him. I believe he will do anything and everything within his power to make sure I'm safe and happy, if not at all times, then as much as I can be.

We all file off the train in a big rush, and I'm more than surprised that no one gets accidentally trampled.

The night air whistles past my ears, and I suppress a shiver. Harry is at my right shoulder, and he has yet to let go of my wrist. I slip my hand into his, twining our fingers and holding on tight.

We both keep Draco in our sights. I saw him try and stick with us at first, but then he got swept away by all the other children greeting him and asking if it was him who climbed onto the train's roof. I think the stories are becoming more elaborate as they've been passed on, as now Draco apparently went onto the roof to save Neville himself and not his toad.

Katie and Ron flank Draco like bodyguards and I have to laugh. Of course Draco would steal the unwanted limelight away from Harry without even trying.

Suddenly over the noise of the crowd I hear a familiar booming voice,

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

Hagrid's big face comes into view in the dark as he's holding a massive lamp. He continues to shout,

"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Harry and I exchange a meaningful look, and then shrug at each other.

"We really should have asked for some kind of schedule." I mutter to Harry.

Harry huffs out a darkly amused laugh, his Magik lashing like a whip made of acid,

"Part of me thinks they're making it up as we go."

I muffle my own laughter with my other hand. It's not even that funny, but it is terribly apt for what we've experienced so far.

We follow Hagird down a narrow path. In the dark. Who's idea was this exactly?

Eventually the small path opens up into a clearing, and beyond that is a dark, almost foreboding lake that practically screams 'swim in here and something will kill you'. Everything in this world seems to want to kill me, control me, or dismiss me as less just because of my blood.

Well forget that, I don't need anyone's approval to be here. I may not be the famous boy-who-lived or a dragon tamer, but I am Hermione Granger, and I  _will be_  extraordinary. I refuse to be anything less.

Across the water is, simply put, the biggest and most spectacular building I've ever seen. It reminds me a bit of Gringotts bank, but about ten times the size. The whole building seems to be made of crystal, and the moonlight causes it to look aluminous.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid calls to us.

Harry eyes the little boats with as much scepticism as I feel. I lean over to him and say,

"Is it too late to take a plane?"

Harry shrugs ever so slightly and replies,

"I am getting a strangely Titanic themed sense of impending doom."

Before I can respond I hear Draco call back to us as he climbs into a boat,

"Come on you two, shake the constipated faces and get in."

I want to throw something at his face. Harry just rolls his eyes and we climb into a boat opposite a boy with brown curly hair and a girl whose hands appear to be shaking. I'm hoping that's excitement and not fear, because I really don't want to have some panic stricken girl toppling us into the water.

...

A tall witch with dark hair and bright cat-like eyes stares down at us with shrewd disinterest. We all stare back at her. It's a weird moment.

Finally Hagrid says,

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall,"

Professor McGonagall gives Hagrid a brief nod, and then goes right on back to staring at us.

"Thank you, Hagrid, I will take them on from this point."

More and more I'm wishing we had a list of teachers. It seems like people just keep showing up and telling us who they are in such a strange way. It makes me think they assume we already know, and therefore need no further instruction.

The entrance to Hogwarts is like the opening to a cave. A massive cave, that is. I find myself looking around wildly, trying to take everything in. There are crystal shards sticking out of crystal walls, and it's so impressively mad.

Professor McGonagall leads us up a wide crystal staircase that feels almost like it's made of ice. I hear voices coming from a room not far off from the top the stair case, but Professor McGonagall stops right outside it, allowing us to crowd around together in the corridor.

Her eyes are hard and serious when she says,

"Welcome to start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you sit down, you will take part in the unlocking ceremony. This is a very important ceremony because it is the first step in embracing your element. Whatever element lies within your core will play a big part in the person you will one day become. It will also decide which house you are most suited. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. I wish every single one of you the best of luck, but have no fear, your element, although powerful, is merely an extension of yourself. After your unlocking, you will be given your first mark."

I shift nervously, and Harry squeezes my hand again. I squeeze back, unable to hide my unease. Professor McGonagall gives us one more solid stare, and then turns to push open the big ornate crystal door. It looks heavy, but she manages to open it very easily.

"How do you think they actually unlock us, I could never find a straight answer on that in the books," I whisper to Harry.

Harry leans in closer and replies steadily,

"I have no idea, although I'm guessing it's kept secret for a reason."

I don't know about that, it seems like the Magikal world loves to keep secrets just for the sake of it.

"And what do they mean by 'our first mark'?" I question, feeling more apprehensive by the second.

Harry smirks in dark amusement,

"I believe that's what those moving tattoo's are."

I almost gasp, but manage to hold it in,

"They can't do that, we're too young for tattoo's!"

"I don't think they're actually tattoo's, HG." Harry replies dryly.

I frown, trying to work out what he means by that. The thought of getting some kind of mark makes me nervous. I'm already nervous enough as it is.

I didn't fully allow myself to think about it before, but now I can't seem to stop thinking. It's like there's a maze of questions in my head and every single one of the paths I try to walk down lead to a dead end. It's a spider web of uncertainty, and that just isn't right. I hate it. I really do.

Harry is giving me one of 'those looks', the ones that make me want to either hide or smack him over the head with a brick. A big brick.

There really is no middle ground.

I almost want to say to Harry that we should just grab Draco and make a run for it. Maybe we can hire a tutor like Dalia suggested. Then we can go to normal Muggle school and grow up always being the weird children who don't quite fit in. Unless of course you're Draco, then everyone loves you and your madness.

But for us mere mortals, life is hard, and dealing with people who don't understand you because you're different is even harder. I know all that first hand, and let me tell you, it's crap sometimes.

But before I can suggest that plan to Harry, Professor McGonagall comes striding back out of the hall and gives us one pointed stare, her eyes lingering on Harry. Of course they do, he is the boy who got zapped in the forehead after all,.

Oh Jesus, that thought was pure Draco, we've obviously spent too much time together over the years if I'm actually starting to think like him.

"Come through first years, it's time for you to be unlocked and sorted." Professor McGonagall says firmly. She sweeps around, gesturing for us to follow her inside.

A strange buzzing in my ears gets even louder, it's been getting worse and worse the closer to Hogwarts we've gotten. But now that buzzing has spread to my chest and stomach, causing something in me to almost vibrate. It's not something I've ever felt before, so it can't be my magik.

It's scaring me a little how intense it is, and I look around me at the other student, hoping one of them will show signs of having the same reaction. But from what I can see, I'm alone in this. I want to ask Harry, but he's already moving forward after Professor McGonagall.

I take a deep steadying breathe and move to follow after him. It doesn't help the horribly strange feeling welling up inside me, but it does make my head feel a little clearer. Sort of.

The moment I step into the great hall, however, everything falls right down the rabbit hole.

Breathing becomes almost impossible when I look up just in time to lock eyes with one of the most strangely handsome people I've ever seen.

His eyes are molten silver, and they're staring right back at me. I can't hold back my loud gasp this time. It's as if all the breathe has been knocked from my body.

The boy looks tall, tall for his age maybe, which is about a year or two older than me. He's got dark blond hair that's been allowed to grow long enough to curl over his ears in rings of gold and flawless tanned skin.

I have no idea why my eyes are drawn to him, but they are, it's like something inside me is screaming out for recognition. But I don't understand what or why.

The blond boy is staring right at me, a small frown on his face. That intense feeling inside my chest gets harsher and louder the longer we look at each other. I want to look away, but I can't seem to make myself actually do it.

Suddenly the boy gets up from his place at a round black marble table. He rushes over to a big white marble table at the front of the hall, his movements incredibly graceful, like he's completely weightless. I wonder how much skill and practice that must take.

All the teachers are sitting at the main table. The boy whispers into Dumbledore's ear, and I watch as a brief flash of surprise passes over the older man's face.

Dumbledore looks up at me with curiosity in his eyes, and my gaze flitters between him and the silver eyed boy, who is now watching me with stark intensity.

I feel a hand touch mine, and then another hand on my shoulder. I blink out of my daze, finally able to look away from those impossibly silver eyes.

Harry is watching me, a look of concentration on his face, his emerald eyes are hard and steely. Draco is touching my shoulder gently, almost protectively, and his pretty face appears questioning.

I don't know what to tell them, I really have no clue what's happening to me. Other children are staring now, and I begin to feel self-conscious. I'm beginning to see why Harry hates being famous, it's incredibly nerve-racking to have a bunch of strangers gaping at you.

I take a moment to swallow hard and look around the great hall, taking it in with more detail. There are four long marble tables, and then one round one. There are only a handful of students sitting at the round table. They stare at me with a different kind of glint in their eyes. Both welcoming and challenging expressions on their faces.

Each table is a different colour. The hall itself looks like a gigantic ballroom out of a fairy-tale.

I give Draco and Harry a small reassuring smile, which they obviously don't believe for a single second because they aren't morons.

Dumbledore rises from his seat, which looks more like a throne than a chair. His gaze is still firmly fixed on me, and I force myself not to look at the silver eyed boy, even though almost every part of me wants to.

We all wait, the whole room having descended into silence, whilst Dumbledore makes his way around to a large pedestal carved into the shape of a bird.

"Miss Granger, could you please accompany Mr. Wild to a separate part of Hogwarts. Certain...details have come to my attention, and need to be addressed immediately," Dumbledore says, his voice both strong and stoic.

I'm not sure how to feel about that, all things considered.

"What the flip is happening? I don't like the vibes around here right now. Very bad vibes, dear God, it was never this intense with the puggles." Draco says, looking confused and worried as he moves closer to me. There's a strength in his pale blue eyes, like he thinks he can shield me from all the bad things in the world by sheer force of will alone.

I almost smile at that.

The blond boy gives me another appraising look, and then with a subtle nod at Dumbledore, begins to walk toward me. Harry immediately stiffens, and that thoughtful look vanishes from his face. He stands in front of me and Draco and gives Dumbledore a scathing glare.

"Give me one good reason why I should allow that?" Harry's voice is cold and hard, that acid whip lashing out again violently. This time people around him definitely feel it and flinch away. Harry doesn't seem to care.

I should probably feel outraged that Harry thinks he can allow anyone to do anything to or with me. But in some ways I belong to Harry, just like in some ways he belongs to me. And Draco belongs to us. I would probably feel the same way if our roles were reversed. I'm not sure if that's a normal thing for friends to feel about each other, but then, we've never been normal anyway.

Before Dumbledore can respond, the silver eyed student, who I now realise is the only one dressed in a black uniform, says to Harry,

"There are things she needs to know," his voice is cracked and low, like a broken rumble of thunder.

"What things?" I ask, feeling more lost now than ever before.

Harry's gaze sweeps over silver eyes, and their gazes lock for a few seconds. Both of them watching the other with distant interest, in the same way two predators would eye each other out in the wild. Then Harry looks away, dismissing him as a non-threat. For now. His eyes land back on Dumbledore, and I can see the tension seep through his body with icy fury, his magik slashing through it's restraints like the teeth of a shark slashing through a net. It seems Harry has decided who the real threat is, and he's not likely to back down now that he's smelt blood.

"I promise no harm will come to Miss Granger, Mr Potter, there are simply a few...details that need outlaying, for her own sake," Dumbledore says finally, breaking off some kind of moment with Harry.

I can tell Dumbledore doesn't want to say much in front of a whole school full of children, and I suppose I understand that. But does everything in this world have to be so stupidly cryptic? I mean really?

"Then we'll go with her," Harry says firmly, his tone brooking no arguments.

Dumbledore seems to take a small breathe before replying,

"No. She must go alone with Mr Wild."

Harry's hands begin to shake, and I sense his anger wanting to lash out and hurt someone, or destroy something. Draco moves away from my shoulder then and cautiously reaches out to take Harry's hand in his. Harry's head whips around to glare at Draco, pure fury in his eyes, the green of his iris practically glowing.

" _Harry, please_." Draco whispers, so quietly that only the three of us can actually hear the words.

After a moment's pause, Harry's body relaxes and the anger inside him recedes to a manageable level. His hand squeezes Draco's so tight that I know it must be hurting, but Draco shows no signs of pain on his face. He only looks calm and sure, as if there was never any question what Harry would do. Only Draco can keep Harry from letting the darkness take over when he gets like that.

"I'm sorry, about before," Draco whispers to Harry again, his expression remorseful now, "I only wanted to help."

Harry tilts his head to the side and lets out a long breathe, before replying simply,

"I know."

And, just like that, it's over and done with, the whole train fiasco forgiven and forgotten.

I can't decide if that's a boy thing or a Harry and Draco thing.

Either way I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes in exasperation.

Honestly, can I not have a moment where something weird happens to me and it doesn't end in Harry and Draco confirming their obvious connection? Am I really doomed to always be the third wheel matchmaker? And yes, I know I'm being overly dramatic, but, you know, I'm feeling pretty dramatic right now. So there.

I clear my throat and everyone goes back to staring at me again. Fantastic.

"Would it make you feel better if I introduced myself properly?" I blink in surprise when silver eyes speaks again, his voice somehow even rougher now, like two pieces of sandpaper being scrapped together.

He's standing perfectly still, impossibly still actually, and it's very unnerving. In fact everything about him seems to unnerve me. It's incredibly annoying.

"Oh for goodness sake, come on then."

Harry's jaw clenches and I give him a beseeching look, trying to convey the words 'let me handle this'. If it was anyone else, I know Harry would ignore such a request, maybe even if it was Draco. But I know he trusts me, in a way he doesn't trust anyone else. Harry nods once and gestures for me to continue, a show of respect reserved only for me. Draco smiles assuredly at me, and takes Harry's lead.

Silver eyes watched every single exchange between Harry, Draco and I with a strange expression on his face. Not quite curiosity or surprise, but something in between the two.

"I'll go with you," I say coolly, "But only if you let me inside your mind so that I can read that your intentions are good."

I'm all too aware that we're doing all this in front of far too many people. Harry's watching me with approval in his eyes, although no one else could probably see it. Draco just looks excited. He always loves it when Harry and I use our abilities.

There are rumblings from all the students, loud whispering that has only gotten louder since everyone realised who Harry is, his obvious powerful magik, Draco's apparent control over it, and then my own mystery.

Dumbledore says, his tone even,

"Perhaps such an event should not take place right here."

"Perhaps such an event like this wouldn't happen in the first place if everyone explained things to us," I mutter to myself, but silver eyes appears to hear it and a ghost of a smile curves his lips.

"I'll allow you to read my mind if you like," Silver eyes says, he moves closer to me, close enough that I could reach out and touch him if I wanted to. Which I  _don't_. "And just so you know" he continues, quietly in that same broken voice, "My name is Ajax Wild."

"Hermione Granger," I reply steadily, not sure what to make of this strange boy yet. But if Harry a.k.a the most suspicious boy ever born, considers him not a threat, then I allow myself to relax a little.

His eyes meet mine then, and I almost feel him yank down certain walls around his mind, allowing me limited entry. I sweep inside quickly and let his thoughts flood into the thin connection that I created between us.

Silver eyes is giving me bits and pieces from his mind, not full sentences, or even full words really, more a sense, a feeling, of neutral intent. He doesn't want to hurt me, and will not attack unless I do first. There is no reason for him to lie to me. All this streams back and forth between us for a few seconds before I am satisfied.

I break our connection and roll my shoulders before giving him one last, long, look, before tearing my eyes away, which is harder to do than I'd like. He's watching me passively, but there's still a spark in those eyes of his that suggest at something more.

"He's safe," I say to Harry and Draco.

There's a rumbling of laughter from the people sitting at the round table, who apparently heard what I said. They seem vastly amused for some reason. I glance back at Ajax, who seems like he wants to laugh, but refuses to allow himself. I wonder about the reason for his controlled emotions. The only reason I'm so good at reading him is because of Harry and his insatiable need to come across as a mystery to all.

"Will you come with me now?" Ajax asks me, almost sounding curious.

I glance over at Harry and Draco again, both of whom look like they're preparing for me to say no and for us to have to fight our way out of here.

For the first time I notice Professor McGonagall staring at me with something akin to awe and caution, like I'm a strange new species of animal. In fact, all of the Professors seem to be looking at me with a similar expression, except one with black hair and a crooked nose who seems bored with the whole situation.

Dumbledore seems particularly interested in my answer, and I almost say no, based purely on principle. But instead I nod briefly and say,

"Alright, I'll go."

With that I find myself quickly swept out of the hall by Ajax, only managing one small smile back at the boys before the big door closes between us.

I don't like doing this without them, and I'd feel much more comfortable if I had them by my side, but I suppose we had to be apart at some point. I just didn't expect it to be so soon after arriving.

Ajax doesn't say a word to me as he walks soundlessly through illuminated corridors, some that look like they belong in a palace, others inside a cave. I find myself distracted by the stark wonder of Hogwarts for a little while. But then, reality crashes back in at full force and I look up at Ajax, who has an emotionless expression on his face. He appears to be ignoring my existence, while at the same time he seems perfectly aware of my every movement.

I'm not sure how that works, but it does.

"Do I get any clue as to what this is about?" I ask him.

He doesn't even glance down at me as he replies,

"No. You'll find out soon enough. It's better that you speak to our Headmistress."

I frown at that, confused again,

"But, I thought Dumbledore was Headmaster of Hogwarts, there was never any mention of a Headmistress in any of the books I read."

Ajax says,

"Dumbledore is Headmaster of Hogwarts, yes. Eos is the Headmistress for people like us."

People like us?

Eos?

"You mean there's a separate school within Hogwarts?" I ask, still very much confused. I hate not understanding things, it drives me mad.

Ajax gives a brief nod,

"If you wish to think of it like that, then do."

His tone suggest finality, and I know from growing up with Harry, that it means I won't be getting anything more out of him now.

We walk for what feels like forever, going up and down stair cases, which makes no sense, and through many doors. I try my best to keep up with Ajax's unfairly graceful stride.

Until we finally reach a big black door, seemingly made of metal. It's covered in symbols, none of which I understand. But they do niggle at me, like I should know what they mean. It's very frustrating to say the least. The answer is just out reach, and I can't quite grasp it.

Ajax reaches out and places his hand on the door, then closes his eyes and whispers,

" _Anoichtó_ "

I can hear that it's a different language, but for some reason I know it means 'open', or at least some part of my mind does.

The symbols on the metal door suddenly burn with a bright blue light for a few seconds, causing me to gasp. Ajax seems completely nonplussed, which makes me kind of want to hit him.

A moment later the doors swing open and Ajax wastes no time in leading me thorough it. Inside I find what appears to be a whole new world, or at least a whole new building.

I follow Ajax in awe as he leads me through another series of corridors. This building seems to be more of a castle-like structure, everything made of solid stone. There appears to be symbols everywhere. Although I get the shock of my life when I realise the castle is resting on a tiny island that is floating in the sky. I think I must gape out of the window for ages before I find my voice.

"What is going on? Seriously, I mean it this time! I'm not going any further until you tell me  _something._ " I practically shout at Ajax.

Ajax simply raises an eyebrow at my ire, and knocks on a door without looking away from me. His silver eyes bore right down deep into my soul, and I force myself not to shrink back and away from him. There's no way I'm going to let this boy intimidate me. Nope, nah, not even a little bit.

We have a mini stare-off for a few moment, before the door opens to reveal a very tall and very beautiful woman. She's what one might call willowy, with long blond hair and a pale perfect face. She's weirdly mesmerizing, in almost the same way Ajax is, just like the children at the round table back in the hall.

The woman's pale tawny eyes flicker over first Ajax, and then me. They widen considerably when landing on my face, and she looks shocked. Maybe more shocked than me, which is really saying something.

"The Lost Olympian," I hear her murmur breathlessly.

"We found her with a group of first year Elementals, her name is Hermione Granger" Ajax says, and the woman's focus snaps back to him.

"Gods, how can that be? It's remarkable." The woman stares at me for a long time before continuing, "Please, both of you come in, we have much to discuss."

The woman ushers me and Ajax into what looks like an office. It's large and heavily decorated.

"My name is Eos," she says, and she gestures for me to sit down in a chair in front of her desk as she walks around to sit in a chair on the other side. I take the seat, if only to stop my legs from shaking. Ajax does not sit, and instead stands at the side of the desk, his arms crossed and an unreadable expression on his face as he watches me.

"Please, tell me what's going on?" I ask the woman, knowing that I sound strained and a bit scared, but not caring by this point, "I just found out I'm a witch not too long ago and that's enough to take in as it is-"

"You aren't a witch, Miss Granger." Eos says firmly, her eyes still burning into me in a way that makes me shift around uncomfortably.

"What do you mean? Of course I'm a witch. I'm a muggleborn," I reply, shaking my head at her words.

"No, you are not," Eos says, sounding deceptively calm, "There must have been some mistake with the Magikal register, because you are not a witch, although your father was a wizard."

Alright, because that makes complete sense.

"If my father was a wizard, then how am I not a witch," I don't even know why I'm contemplating this, I already know my father was a muggle.

Seeming to know what I'm thinking, Eos says,

"The people who rasied you, the Grangers, may have been muggles, but they were not your parents."

"What?" I almost yell, "My parents were-"

"Not muggles." Eos says, with such conviction that I have to pause.

"So you're saying my...real parents were Magikal, a witch and a wizard?"

Eos tilts her head to the side, she seems to be thinking about how to word something. Finally she says carefully,

"No. Your father would have been a wizard, but your mother was...a Demi-God."

"A Demi-God...no...no that's...ridiculous...I don't...I don't understand..." My mind is grasping desperately at the information I know to be true, trying to force out what Eos is telling me.

But if it is true, which it can't possibly be, then what would that make me?

"What  _am I_?" I ask, clutching a hand to my stomach, staring off into the distance, everything falling apart around me in this moment.

For the first time since we entered the room, Ajax steps forward and speaks,

"You are an Olympian, a sworn protector of this world."

Down, down, down the rabbit hole I fall.

_Down. Down. Down._

* * *

** Draco's P.O.V **

"If she is hurt in any way, I will drown you  _all,_ " Harry says once, voice hard and cold. He says 'all' but his eyes are on Dumbledore, never once wavering.

Dumbledore and Harry stare at each other for a very long time. Everyone in the room is silent, and I almost reach out to touch Harry again, to calm him. But he's now perfectly in control of his emotions and therefore his Magik. Besides, I agree with the sentiment behind Harry's words. I will do anything to protect Hermione, and no one is allowed to hurt her. If anyone does, they will pay for it.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Dumbledore bows his head ever so slightly and says,

"Understood Mr. Potter."

Good, good, now we all understand something. Yay us.

A lot of people are still staring at us, some with awe, others with fear. I don't know why really, Harry wouldn't actually hurt anyone, he's a good person underneath all that harshness. But then, it's not like they know that. I do though, with all my heart, so maybe that'll be enough.

I catch Ron's eye and I smile at him, hoping he won't not want to be friends with me now. To my immense relief he simply smiles back, looking a little stunned, but not angry. Although it seem like he's studiously avoiding looking in Harry's direction. Katie gives me a quick and discreet thumbs up, and I grin back at her, glad that she's not afraid either.

Professor McGonagall seems to recover from her apparent shock first and clears her throat before giving us all a stern expression,

"Come on then, lets get you all unlocked and sorted." She then proceeds to sweep down through the room until we reach the front, where a weird old hat is sitting on top of a stool. It looks oddly out of place in the lavish ballroom. Do we get to wear the hat? Ohhh, I want a hat!

Harry stays close to me, even as we line up, but he doesn't stop me from standing near Ron and Katie. I know he probably wants to be alone right now, but the sooner we get on with this, the sooner we can go in search of Hermione, which is what I want to do.

Then something amazing happens; talking hat!

"Ahhh, some new children to make their choice. Very interesting," the hat says. TALKING HAT! This world just keeps getting more and more bonkers.

Ron leans over to me and whispers,

"You see the talking hat too, right?"

I nod, a grin spreading over my face before I can stop it,

"Do you think there's a chatty scarf lying around somewhere?"

Ron and I stifle our laughter, barely.

I almost wish I hadn't hidden Vita in my trunk, he would have loved this. Vita is always a fan of the wacky and weird.

Just when I think things can't get any more wackadoodle, the hat starts singing/monologueing.

_"Some say the world will end in Fire_

_A choice of_ _Bravery_

_Some believe we can trust the Earth_

_A choice of Loyalty_

_Some think only what we know is true_

_A choice of wisdom_

_Some deem power their purest desire_

_A choice of ambition_

_Tonight the choice will be yours_

_Be brave with your words_

_Be loyal with your beliefs_

_Be wise with your knowledge_

_Be ambitious with your power_

_For this is a choice for Always and Forever._ "

Everyone starts clapping as soon as the hat stops singing (singing!), and I wonder absently if we're clapping because of the actual song, or because a hat just sang a song at all.

Either way, I'm clapping the hardest. Mainly because, who knew a hat could hard core monologue?

Although one thought does suddenly occur to me. I lean back in close to Harry and ask,

"What kind of rights do you think a talking hat has?"

Harry gives me his most stony look ever and almost hisses,

"Don't. You. Dare."

Uh oh, better save that question for another day. But I will ask it at some point, because these things need to be addressed by  ** _someone_**.

Professor McGonagall steps forward then and takes out a list of names, she says,

"When you come forward, state your name for our records and then take a seat."

A dark skinned boy with sharp facial features steps forward first and turns to face all of the students, before saying,

"Blaise Zabini."

Blaise goes to sit down on the stool and places the hat on top his head, his eyes seem to go glassy and his body freezes in place. His breathing looks shallow and I actually worry he's being hurt by the hat somehow. But before I can make a move to...I don't know, give the hat a good smack, the boy gasps loudly and his white clothing almost explodes with colour. After a moment it settles on a dark ivy green and the hat opens it's mouth to announce,

"Slytherin!"

People from what I assume is the Slytherin table politely clap and Blaise gets up and takes off the hat, placing it back on the chair. There's a weird silence to the room, as if everyone knows there's more to come.

Suddenly a blast of power fills the room and Blaise's head tips back as his stomach appears to glow through his uniform. His dark brown eyes also begin to glow, as does his ring, and the sound of crashing waves assaults my ears. A burst of water, seemingly out of nowhere, explodes from Blaise's skin and completely covers his body like a cocoon.

Before I can panic that he'll actually drown, the water seems to somehow be absorbed into Blaise's skin, I mean, that's what it looks like to me. Or at least it disappears somewhere inside him, however that works. It's as if his core is welcoming the water, calling it home somehow.

"Woah," Is all I can say to that.

Blaise doesn't look half as stunned as you'd think someone should after something so intensely insane.

"Hold out your arm so you can receive your first mark," Professor McGonagall says neutrally.

Blaise pulls up the sleeve of his uniform and holds out his arm. A man wearing silver clothing, and covered in what look like moving tattoo's, but must be marks, stands up from the white marble table and open up a purple velvet box. Inside is hat appears to be a crystal of some kind, although it's been shaped into the form of a large stencil.

The man comes forward with the crystal and takes Blaise's arm gently. I wince when he first presses the sharper side of the crystal to Blaise's skin, as then it almost seems to flicker into a flame of white light. But apart from a brief flash of pain dashing over his face, Blaise appears to not feel much at all as the man draws the water element symbol onto his arm.

When the mark is finished, Blaise reservedly thanks the man in silver and then without another word he takes his seat at the green marble Slytherin table.

Well that was...something. I honestly have no words for that.

Except...

"Ron, what are those 'mark' thingies?"

Ron turns to me and answers,

"They're the marks of your combined Magik and soul. The marks can enhance your power, your abilities and loads of other stuff. You can get more done than your first if you want, there are hundreds of them, but they're dangerous to have done because they'll only stay on your skin if your Magik and your Soul agree you deserve them."

"What happens if they don't agree?" I ask, sure I won't like the answer.

Ron swallow heavily and says,

"Then the mark is ripped or burnt off by your own Magik."

Nope, I was right, I don't like it. I really need to stop asking questions. I blame Hermione completely for tricking me into being so inquisitive.

One after another all the other first years take their place on the stool and the singing hat sits on their head, doing and saying nothing. It's all more than a little odd. But as I get closer to the front of the line I find myself getting more and more excited instead of nervous.

The same thing happens with almost every student, although of course the cacoon and symbol changes depending on which element is being unlocked, and the colour of the clothing depends on the house as well.

Ron seems to be almost vibrating with nerves by the time he gets to the front of the line, and I give him a quick squeeze on the shoulder. Katie is sorted into Gryffindor and her element is Fire. The cacoon for fire is my favourite, it seems impossible to be enveloped in fire and come out completely unscathed, but it happens every single time.

Another thing that seems to vary is the time spent with the hat. Ron barely has to sit there any time at all before the hat announces "Gryffindor" and Ron is wrapped up in flames before getting his fire symbol mark. He seems enormously happy, and I'm glad.

Of course then it's my turn and the nerves briefly return, only to be chased away when Harry grabs my hand and holds it for a moment. I hear him whisper "I've got you." which makes me feel like I could take on the world single handed.

I state my name loudly to the hall of students,

"Draco Black!" I also raise a fist and pump it up into the air. For confidence purposes.

There are murmurs and loud whispers, hundreds of eyes gazing at me. Some with awe and interest, some with scorn and distaste, some with a mixture of both. Magikal people are a strange lot. Silly Wazerds.

I ignore them all and take my seat on the stool, quickly shoving the hat onto my head. I get to make a few seconds of eye contact with Harry before something inside my mind yanks at my subconscious and drags me under. I feel for a moment like I'm falling and all I can see is a white blinding light. I land with a thump on what feels like grass. My eyes sting for a moment, and I blink them open slowly, getting used to the new light in the sky above me.

I stumble to my feet, trying not to fall back over like a twit. I can see properly now and what I see makes no sense at all.

I'm on some sort of cliff I think. Behind me is a open and almost friendly looking forest. In front of me is the cliffs edge and on the far left is a door that seems like it would lead right over the cliff with nothing behind it. There is also a bridge that goes from this cliff edge to another cliff far away.

Inside my head I hear a deep voice say,

"Four choices. Into the woods. Over the cliff. Through the door. Across the bridge. How do you get off the cliff? Make your choice, trust your instincts."

I frown in thought. So this is the test. How does any of this decide what house I should be in, or what element is within my core? What could it possibly prove? But then, maybe that's not the point.

Trust your instincts it said, so maybe this is more about what you would do if there was no other option. Fight or flight, that kind of thing.

Well, to me the answer seems obvious. If there are no repercussions, as it's not like I can die inside my own head, it makes sense to jump over the cliff's edge. Or at least it makes sense to me. Plus, who doesn't want to jump off a cliff?

But, what about the bridge, where does that lead? What's on the other cliff?

It's as I'm contemplating this that I hear the buzzing of what sounds like a hundred bees. I have just enough time to look behind me as a spindling mesh of blackness comes spiralling towards me from the sky. For whatever reason, when I see it, all I can think about are shadows.

Right then, no time to lose. I may not be able to die here, but I sure as flip don't like the feeling that black spindly mass is giving me. Without giving myself too much time to think about it, I run towards the cliff's edge and throw myself off of it at full force.

But the spindling mass follows me and I feel power and rage and excitement as I fall into nothingness with an army of shadows snapping at my heels.

I gasp as my subconscious throws me back into the real world and I can see the hall of students, and more importantly Harry, again. I fight the urge to gasp and sputter and fall to my knees. Adrenaline pumps through my body as something inside me snaps and I feel power burst from within. It rushes through the room like a tornado and I hear more than see everyone make sounds of shock.

The power burns through me at a rapid pace, it feels pleasantly painful, and out of this world exhilarating. I've never felt so complete in all my life, like something has finally fallen into place inside me. It's incredibly brilliant. It's amazing. It's flipping groovy as hell.

Ok, now even my brain is saying stupid things to itself. At least I didn't say the word 'groovy' out loud.

I shove myself off the stool and take off the hat, feeling like I could run for a thousand miles, or breathe fire like a dragon. Just as suddenly, a great wave of fire erupts from my skin and covers every inch of my body. I almost want to scream at the sight of it, but a larger part of me wants to laugh because I've never felt so in control and powerful in all my life. I feel like I could do anything, and nothing could possibly stop me. I can see and feel nothing but the flames consuming me from the inside out. It's the most content I've ever felt, other than a few special moments with Harry.

I can taste the fire, as impossible as that sounds, and I can hear it crackling and spitting like mad. Eventually I feel something in me break, like a vase smashing within me, and the fire beings to recede, soaking into my skin. The fire rushes through my veins with ease and I shudder as it pools in my stomach, twisting and settling there like it was always meant to.

As soon as I can breathe and think again, my eyes immediately search out Harry. When our eyes connect, I feel that same simmering bond between us grow into something unknown and momentous. His emerald eyes are so intense, and he's staring right down deep into me, like he can see everything that I am without even needing to try. I, in turn, stare back at him with what I'm sure is equal intensity. Eventually I have to break my gaze with him when it gets too much to take all at once.

I take a deep breathe, allowing my power and Magik to settle, before saying against my will,

"That was so groovy."

Damn! Brain, you prat, who do you do these things to me? To us? Quick, make me say something not ridiculous,

"Um...I mean...that was so super snazzy."

Dear brain,

I hate you.

Love, Draco.

Dear Draco,

That'll teach you for letting that frumpy hat get inside me and create stupid personality tests for you. I DON'T LIKE CLIFFS!

Lots of love, your brain

I think I'm losing it. Clearly being a Wazerd has infected my sanity.  _Can't infect what was never there to begin with,_ a voice that sounds suspiciously like Hermione whispers.

"Mr Black, please extend your arm for me," I blink in surprise, coming out of my own head finally as the man dressed in silver watches at me curiously. He's holding the stencil crystal and looking at my arm pointedly.

Oh, whoops.

I hold out my arm for SilverMgee and smile in what I hope isn't a manic way. It's as the crystal touches my skin and burns like hell for a few seconds before settling into a gentle pinching heat that I realise I have no idea what house I'm in. I somehow managed to miss that bit. I discreetly look down at my clothes. Red and gold. Right, good. Then I realise that Gryffindor house is still applauding like crazy. I must have been tuning it out like the weirdo that I am. I can't help but grin when I catch sight of Ron and Katie, both of whom seem to be clapping the hardest, Neville not far behind them.

When the symbol is finally finished, I practically bounce over to the still cheering Gryffindor table. A lot of students shake my hand and clap me on the back. Fred and George stand up and start chanting things like 'We got the boy with good diction' and 'Welcome the saviour of toads!'. I sit down next to Ron and we high five, both of us laughing in excitement. FIRE POWER!

I trace my fingers over the new mark on my arm, and my mind briefly flashes to the very different mark on my chest. I almost wince at the thought of it. I also think of that spindling black mass that chased after me during my unlocking. Did that happen to everyone? Can I ask without it sounding obvious? What if it means something bad and I ruin things for myself, Harry and Hermione? I'd hate to be the one who got us sent home. Although, statistically, I know it probably will be me.

My gaze darts back over when Ron nudges me and says,

"It's Potter's turn, Draco."

My eyes snap up to the front, everything else completely forgotten. I feel more nervous for Harry than I did for myself. I'd like to hope we could be in the same house, but I don't think that's going to happen. I know Harry too well, I don't need a sorting ritual to tell me Harry isn't the loud and bold type that all seem to get put in Gryffindor.

All I can think is that I wish Hermione was here.

** Harry's P.O.V **

I take a deep calming breathe before stepping forward and turning around to call out my name. I keep my head high and my face expressionless as I say,

"Harry Potter."

The immediate hum of chattering and whispering is expected and easy to ignore. I have far more important things to concentrate on than my so-called 'fame'. For example, how I'm going to keep tabs Dumbledore without him, or anyone else, getting suspicious. Everyone may say he's a great and honourable Wizard, but I don't trust him one bit. I never did. His treatment of Hermione just clinched it.

I honestly don't care what house I'm in, although it would be pleasant to be able to keep a close eye on Draco from within Gryffindor. I could use my fame and hero status within that house quite successfully too. Gryffindor house is a place for heroes, that much is clear to me now.

But I am not a hero. And I don't have any desire to become one either.

I would risk my life if it seemed  _necessary,_  not just because I have the ability to do so.

As I sit down on the stool I take note of who is watching me with the most intensity and what expression is on their face. You can give a lot away by just looking at someone for too long. Unless of course you know how to do it properly.

I place the hat on my head and allow it, with some much needed reluctance, to take me to the top of a cliff inside my own mind.

It becomes obvious to me what choice I have to make even before the voice tells me so, and I carefully break down each and every advantage and disadvantage of each option. Since there's no time limit, I see no reason to rush into any decision without proper forethought.

The woods behind me clearly represent trust, as it provides the promise of safety from the edge and no chance of falling. The door is also obvious, it represents the pursuit of knowledge, by walking through a door leading to endless questions and answers just beyond reach. Jumping over the cliff edge is the most instinctual choice, and therefore represents both courage and recklessness.

When I finally make my choice I waste no time in stepping carefully onto the bridge. This one is the most complex, as it represents the careful line between risking what lies in wait on the other cliff, and the possibilities that other cliff could hold. Perhaps there's a safer way to get off the cliff. Or maybe something over there is worth creating a bridge for in the first place. A dangerous place where risk balances with reward.

Of course I know there's not actually anything other there, as this is all about potential rather than actual results.

When I reach the other cliff edge, I step over onto it carefully and find myself blinking back into full consciousness with ease. My gaze finds Draco's first, and the hat has just enough time to loudly announce,

"SLYTHERIN!" before a burst of power so strong and mighty that it causes the floor and ceilings to crack and certain crystal shards to smash, completely consumes the hall.

Power, unlike anything I've ever known, fills me from head to foot. It spreads out underneath my skin and causes my nerve endings to become electrified. I can feel it coursing through my body like pure icy lightening, and I have to tip my head back as that power explodes from my core in fierce waves. I feel like a tsunami in human form, and it is glorious. Never have I been so wonderfully in control of my own Magik before.

I can't imagine anything more extraordinarily right than this. My power is endless and starving for use. And I want to use it. For one slit second I want to rip this building apart and destroy everything and everyone who would ever threaten my power or question my will.

But only for a second.

I manage to scrap together enough presence of mind to shift myself off the stool, and remove the hat before my element comes rushing to the surface. I don't have time to acknowledge the astonishment and terror and wonder on people's faces before water cover my body.

Or actually, I should the ice that covers my body.

The impossible coldness seeps into my bones and hardens my being with iron-like strength. My pain is noticeable, but bearable, as the ice burrows it's way back into my core, only to settle there with the promise of omnipotent intent for the future.

When the ice disappears completely, I hold out my arm to receive my mark, only to be met with silence and shocking stillness. Everyone is staring at me, and for once there is no quiet and excited whispering to accompany it. I must say, I do prefer being stared at this way, if I truly  _have_  to be stared at.

The only eyes I truly care about are Draco's, and I search out his, finding them instantly. His strange eyes are wide, but not fearful. He meets my gaze, and they lock together for a long moment. I see so many things in those eyes. A flash of red along with the usual crackle of lightening around the black circle within his iris makes me want to smirk. I allow a small quirk of my lips, but no more.

Draco does not fear my power, it excites him, as it always has done in the past. I'm glad, I would not have wanted Draco to fear me. I do so hope Hermione doesn't either when we find her. But then, Hermione's always been too practical to be afraid of me. It isn't the same kind of bravery as Draco's, but I admire it just the same.

"Go on then," Draco calls out suddenly, cutting through the silence, a wide grin splitting his fae-like face now, "Mark the mighty forehead's sidekick Harry Potter so we can get down to the important stuff. Like eating."

I flash him a shark-like smirk, unable to help myself as power still flows off me in more controlled waves.

Draco's words seem to shove everyone into action, as the man dressed in silver moves cautiously towards me with his crystal. I simply arch an eyebrow at him, getting impatient now, but not letting it show. He takes time doing my symbol, carefully creating the mark like it's the last thing he'll ever do. I marvel at such behaviour towards me, and file it away, meaning to think on it more later in far greater depth.

When he's finally finished I nod at him once and say politely,

"I am grateful for your assistance, thank you."

The man looks immensely happy with my praise, but moves back quickly as if still afraid I might kill him at any moment. I have a feeling I might have to get used to that now that my power has been well and truly recognised.

I give Dumbledore one more pointed look, satisfied to see that he appears almost as shocked as everyone else, and I make my way to the Slytherin table. I'm met with curious but subdued stares, and carefully polite applause.

My eyes scan the table for the most appropriate place to seat myself, and I eventually decide on a space next to the boy whose name I remember being Blaise Zabini, and across from a girl who's name is Pansy Parkinson. Pansy is a pretty girl, but her scrunched up expression ruins her face, and makes her look almost pug-like in appearance.

It's Blaise who introduces himself first. He turns to me composedly and says,

"Hello, Zabini," he holds out his hand. I look at it for a moment before taking it. We shake twice firmly and then let go.

"Potter," I reply with a nod of acknowledgment.

"Welcome to Slytherin, Potter. Are you glad to be here with us?" Blaise asks with a slight twist of his lips. It looks like he's trying not to smile.

I find myself having a similar problem as my own mouth twitches up into a small smirk, and I reply,

"Yes, I believe I am."


	7. Getting to know me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)

** Getting to know me **

**Hermione's P.O.V**

"You are an Olympian, Hermione." Eos says kindly, giving Ajax a sharp look, which he responds to with a nod of acknowledgement, but no apology.

"What's an Olympian?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me, just like it always does.

Eos smiles at me, her expression both open and gentle, which for some reason makes me feel absurdly uncomfortable. I have no idea why.

"An Olympian is a child born of both Magik and Godly parentage. All Olympian's have either a witch or wizard parent and a Demi-God parent."

I try to digest that without losing my mind. I manage it. Somehow. Sort of.

"And when you say 'Demi-God', you mean..."

"A child born from a God and a witch or wizard," Eos supplies readily, "Such as young Mr Wild here." She gestures at Ajax, who doesn't react at all.

"You're a Demi-God," I sputter, gaping openly at him for a few moment, unable to help myself.

Ajax merely raises an eyebrow at me and doesn't say anything in return. I'm starting to think I've found Harry's older brother. Even though they look and sound nothing alike; the few times I've heard Ajax talk that is.

"Yes, he is," Eos answers for him instead, which annoys me for some reason. I want Ajax to answer my questions, however stupid they might sound. But he's just standing there silently, arms crossed behind his back, face completely expressionless like...like...like a soldier.

"What did you mean by 'protector of this world'?" I ask him, my eyes narrowed.

But again Eos is the one who responds,

"By universal God-law, any and all Olympians are to be conscripted and trained to become a Zanikai."

A...what?

"What's a Zanikai?" I ask, trying hard to say it correctly.

Eos nods, as if she fully expected me to ask that. She leans forward onto her desk and says seriously,

"A Zanikai is a warrior sworn to protect Demi-Gods, Elementals and ordinary humans from Deamons."

I think we all know what my next question is.

"What are Deamons exactly?"

Eos's expression becomes grave, and her eyes seem to go darker and harder. I see out of the corner of my eye Ajax's jaw clench ever so slightly.

"Deamon's are creatures of Darkness who feed on Cinergy. They can drain a person dry and kill them very easily. Deamons attack Muggles for fun since they don't have any Cinergy, and their technique for draining Cinergy is very...painful."

I feel dread pool in my gut and I know I'm not imagining it when Ajax becomes even more tense than before, which is quite a feat.

"That's so awful," I say empathetically, and I know my eyes are wide in horror at even the thought.

Eos dips her head and says tightly,

"Yes, which is why we need the Zanikai's to hunt and destroy them to keep people safe."

I ponder that for a while, Ajax and Eos seem perfectly willing to let me think without interruption. They watch me I silence as I try to come to terms with the fact that I'm yet again being told I'm something I could never imagine existing. This is far worse than when Dumbledore told me I was a Muggleborn witch. That at least made some kind of sense.

But this is like being told I'm an alien. A alien who's supposed to fight monsters. Not good.

I know what Draco would say, he'd tease and try to convince me to ask if I'm related to Thor, or if maybe Hercules is my brother. Something stupid like that. Part of my brain wants me to ask those questions, of only because everything around me feels so uncertain, and I wish more than anything that Harry and Draco were here with me.

Harry would just stare right back at Eos, carefully calculating how to get the information he'd want without giving anything to her in return, including the knowledge of his curiosity.

The most disturbing thing about it all, is how right what Eos is telling me feels. I know somewhere deep down in my gut that this is real, and there won't be any escaping it now.

Finally I ask,

"Do I have to be...a Zanikai?"

Eos meets my gaze then, and holds it in a vice grip as she says,

"Yes, you are an Olympian, therefore the law applies to you."

I'm really not sure how to feel about that.

"How did you even know I was...what I am," I ask Ajax lamely, knowing by this point that he won't answer, but asking him anyway.

I'm surprised when Ajax actually says in his strangely broken voice,

"We can recognise each other. It's a skill you'll pick up eventually."

Eos gives Ajax a sharp look, and I want to ask more. For whatever reason, I know Ajax isn't telling me the whole truth, and Eos seems to know it too. Ajax doesn't react to Eos's look, his silver eyes still fixed on mine. A spark of something flickers between us, and I look away. Let Ajax keep his secrets. For now, anyway.

Something occurs to me then, in fact many things do, but one thing stands out the most in my mind,

"Hold on, if you're a Demi-God, then why are you here? Are you training to be a Zanikai too? If so, then why?"

Eos actually raises an bemused eyebrow at me, and appears somewhat shocked when Ajax answers my questions himself,

"I am in training to become a Zanikai. Demi-Gods can choose this path, although not many do."

I frown at him,

"Why not?"

" _Ajax_..." Eos says in a warning tone.

Ajax doesn't look away from me though when he says,

"Because most Demi-God's see it as beneath them. In fact most Demi-Gods view Olympians as beneath them."

I feel immediate outrage on behalf of all Olympians, including myself, which is ridiculous as I've only known that they exist for a few minutes. But still. Something inside me burns at the thought of anyone thinking less of people who put their lives at risk to protect the world from deadly creatures.

"Why would they think that?" I snap, crossing my arms angrily.

Ajax doesn't say anything in response, and Eos looks relieved. She eyes me cautiously and says,

"By God-law, Olympians are seen as...protectors. Soldiers. Warriors. Whereas Demi-Gods are seen as...I suppose  _nobility_ is the best word."

'Nobility'? If that's the best word, then what's the worst one?

"Think of it as a more... _fixed_ class system," Eos explains flatly.

"What if an Olympian doesn't want to become a Zanikai?" I ask warily, already half knowing that I won't like the answer.

Eos tenses noticeably, and I watch Ajax's expression, a look of resignation in his eyes. Eos catches my gaze and says carefully,

"There is an alternative."

Ajax snorts quietly, the most emotion I've seen him show so far. It's the flash of disdain on his face that makes my stomach tighten into knots. Eos gives Ajax a cursory glance, but her focus goes back to me almost immediately. She goes on to explain how Olympians who can't be Zanikai for whatever reason, or refuse to be, are placed in a Demi-God's home, to work for them as either personal guards, or, well, servants.

I'm appalled by even the thought of it, and am unable to believe that such a thing actually happens. It could even happen to me, which scares me more than anything.

"Do the Wizards and Witches know about this? Any of it? All of it?" I ask rapidly, my hands sweating now.

Eos's expression becomes hard instead of open and understanding once more as she says coolly,

"They know what they need to know."

Which basically means 'keep your mouth shut'.

"What about Olympians and Demi-Gods who have children?" I ask in confusion.

Eos's tawny eyes widen almost comically, although there's nothing funny about her response, when she says vehemently,

"Demi-Gods and Olympians are forbidden to have children, or be in any kind of sexual or romantic relationship at all."

"By law?" I ask incredulously.

Eos nods sadly,

"Yes, by God-law."

That's completely insane. I can only imagine what Draco's reaction to any of this would be. He'd probably storm in here and demand to speak to the God's themselves.

"Who comes up with these laws anyway?" I throw my hands up in exasperation.

"The Gods," Eos answers simply.

Her tone suggests the word 'obviously', which I do not appreciate since I am seriously stressing out over here.

Eos turns to Ajax suddenly and says,

"Ajax, go and collect the others from the hall, it might help Hermione if she meets some fellow Olympians."

Ajax appears to hesitate for a moment, his gaze lingering on my face. But then he nods once and strides out of the room, presumably to get the people in the hall who were wearing black uniforms.

This is all mad, and I have a bad feeling that it'll get even worse by the end of today. I can't even imagine how I'll explain all this to Harry and Draco...or even worse, Dalia and Adam. Actually, speaking of...

"What do I tell my guardians? Dalia and Adam have been looking after me since I was seven when my...parents died in a car crash."

A car crash I somehow survived. I still don't know how, or why. It all seemed so blurred and confusing at the time. To be fair it's not much better now.

Eos shakes her head and clasps her hands in front of her on the desk. I let my eyes linger on a few symbols carved into the stone wall behind her.

"Nothing," Eos says, and my attention snaps back to her again, "I'm afraid they can't know what you are, or what you're learning. In fact it would be pointless to tell them as the God's would be immediately alerted and your guardians would have their memories wiped of the information."

Yet again, I am astounded by such craziness.

"Why in the world can't they know? They know about Wizards and Witches."

Eos raises one prim eyebrow and shrugs slightly,

"Elementals have their own rules and laws. We respect them, but we do not need to follow their ways."

"Then why do we attend the same school...sort of." Very, very  _sort of._

Eos smiles again at that,

"Because Olympians have some of the same abilities due to their Wizard/Witch heritage."

"Do Olympians control an element?" I ask hopefully.

"No, they don't," Eos replies, "Demi-God's have the ability to control all four though. Olympians have both mental and physical superiority, once you go through a simple rights ritual where you swear your body, soul and life to the service of the Zanikai's you will notice very dramatic changes."

"What kind of changes?" I ask, sounding more suspicious than I mean to.

Eos tilts her head from side to side, as if thinking of the best way to explain,

"You will be much stronger and faster physically than before, noticeably so in fact. Your mental abilities should also manifest with greater presence and you will be presented with your Archblade-"

I have to stop her there because my head is spinning again.

"What's an Archblade?"

"An Archblade is a special type of sword that can only be wielded by Olympians and well trained Demi-Gods. They are forged in the blood of God's and bathed in the blue fire of the Underworld. Only Archblades can truly destroy a Deamon," Eos explains all this as calmly as if we're discussing afternoon tea. It's endlessly frustrating.

How am I supposed to deal with the fact that I'm destined to become a Deamon killing, sword waving, supergirl-esqe, soldier? I liked it better when I was just a Witch.

It's funny, because I've always felt a bit like the extra with Harry and Draco, and I wanted so much for this whole Hogwarts thing to give me the chance to prove I'm just as important as they are. I wanted to be able to stand side by side (by side) with them as an unstoppable team, instead of feeling like their smart sidekick.

Harry's always been the leader, the mysterious powerful one. Draco's always been the kind and funny one who everyone loves. I was always just  _there_. Never unimportant, but never centre stage either.

Oh the irony. Right now I wish I could go back to being the sidekick.

** Draco's P.O.V **

Dumbledore did a speech. It was weird. I didn't pay much attention to it if I'm honest. I figure I'll ask Harry later and he'll tell me if he said anything important, because I know for sure that Harry will be listening to everything Dumbledore says from now on with scarily intense scrutiny.

I do love Harry, but the boy is out of this world bonkers when it comes to his trust issues.

When the food is brought in, I'm happy, although I do get a few strange looks from Ron and a few others when I only pile my plate up with vegtables, and sweets. Have you ever eaten cabbage with mint chews? No? Then you have been missing out. Chocolate with carrots is surprisingly tasty as well. Although that might be the crazy talking. I'm still on a high from the unlocking.

I can feel my power humming through my body, my blood singeing and fizzing in a way that makes me want to run a thousand miles or flap my arms and give it a go at flying.

I've never felt so alive, and it is brilliant!

The only thing that would make it better is if Harry and Hermione were here sitting with me. I glance over at Harry, who seems to sense eyes on him and looks up at me. There's a glint to his emerald eyes that I haven't seen before, and I realise belatedly that he's enjoying himself.

Slytherin must really be something if Harry's happy about being there. I don't believe all the rubbish people have been saying and whispering about Slytherin. I mean, I'm sure some of it's true, but there's no way that all Slytherins are evil. For a start, Harry is there, so it can't be that bad.

I am glad to be in Gryffindor though, and I'm having fun so far, although it's only been half an hour, so we'll see how it goes.

"Draco," Ron starts, his brown eyes looking genuinely puzzled, "Why are you only eating vegetables?" Ron says the word 'vegetables' in the same way someone else might say 'deadly fungus'.

"I like them," I reply with a shrug, not wanting to impose my eating habits, and beliefs, on everyone so early on in the year. I thought I'd wait at least until breakfast before pointing out that bacon is only dead pig in disguise as part of a fascist food group, and that we've all been brainwashed into thinking it's ok to murder animals just because they can't say no.

I mean really, babies can't talk either, and you don't see adverts on TV selling 'Baby burgers' at McDonalds. Logic people, it's only logic.

"Are you allergic to meat or something?" Katie asks me from the other side of the table. She leans forward in interest.

I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes at me, but she's smiling too. Katie reminds me a bit of Hermione, but less...fierce. More of a wild cat rather than a big scary Jaguar. If you see what I mean.

Ron looks appalled by even the thought of being allergic to meat, and I hold in a laugh.

"That's not possible," Ron says, "There's no way someone can be allergic to meat."

Katie narrows her eyes at him and tsks,

"Yes there is. It's called an Alpha-gal allergy."

Yeah, definitely reminds me of Hermione.

Ron's cheeks turn pink and he snips,

"You made that up."

Katie huffs back at him,

"No I didn't. Just because I actually use my brain for something other than childish boy stuff, doesn't mean I'm a liar."

Uh oh. Ron's lucky Katie isn't actually Hermione, because my Hermon would have  _taken him down_ for a comment like that.

Ron goes even pinker, his pale face turning almost the same shade as his freckles. It's kind of endearing. But I really don't want to referee a fight between my two new friends. Not if I can help it anyway.

"I'm actually a vegetarian," I say, smiling even when Ron practically chokes on his own tongue.

"What?" He practically sputters.

"A vegetarian is someone who doesn't eat meat," Katie informs him, a glint in her eye.

"I know that!" Ron snaps at her.

Katie ignores Ron and says to me,

"Wow, really, that's so cool."

I smile wider at her,

"Thanks, it's really important to me. Animals should be respected, not slaughtered and made into nuggets."

"I like nuggets," Ron mumbles under his breathe.

I shake my head at him,

"No, you've been  _programmed_  since birth, by both the media and social convention, to  _like nuggets_."

Ron appears thoughtful for a few moments, Katie and I watch him with matching looks of amusement, until eventually he shrugs and points at me,

"Nope, I like nuggets...and you're weird."

I flick at his pointed finger, hard, causing him to yelp in surprise.

"I'm very weird, but that has nothing to do with me being a vegetarian," I say, unable to hold back a laugh this time when Ron sucks on his finger and glares at me.

Katie giggles behind her hand, and Ron turns another glare on her. I bump his shoulder with my own and whisper conspiracally to him,

"Don't worry, I won't force you to eat tofu. Although there are vegetarian nuggets that I could sneak onto your plate at some point. You'll never see them coming, and then you'll be a pseudo vegetarian."

Ron shudders in horror, but he smiles at me to let me know he's joking. Ish.

"Please don't do that," he says almost fearfully.

"I promise ** _nothing_** ," I reply, patting his shoulder, "you'll thank me one day. Jesus would have been a vegetarian you know."

Katie laughs,

"Yeah, well Dinosaurs weren't vegetarians."

I wave a hand dismissively,

"Dinosaurs got incinerated by a falling star or something, they were obviously smited for their love of meat."

"Not all Dinosaurs liked meat," Katie argues, sounding like she's having fun.

"Exactly," I exclaim, "And not all humans like meat either. There's a lesson to be learned from that."

"Who's Jesus?" Ron asks in confusion.

I laugh at first, thinking he must be joking, but when I see the very real confusion in his eyes, my laughter fades. I look up at Katie, who shrugs back at me.

"You...I mean...don't you have religion in the Magikal world?" I ask.

"Of course we do," Ron says, clearly affronted, "We believe in the Gods."

"God _ **s**_ , as in plural?"

"Yes," Katie answers, " _The_  Gods."

"What Gods?" I question, truly interested now.

Katie frowns in thought, and then says,

"Well there are a few, actually. But I suppose the main one is Zeus."

My mind...is blown.

"You all believe in the Greek Gods?" Not that there's anything wrong with that, I just didn't expect it.

"Yeah, what else would we believe in?" Ron says with a shrug.

Um...

"I dunno. Some...Puggles believe in just one God," I explain.

"Which one, Jesus?" Katie asks, her nose scrunched up now.

"Nope, Jesus is God's son. It's kinda complicated. There was a Donkey and a star and Mur (Side note, what even is Mur, it sounds like a cheap deodorant. Great, now I see images of Jesus being given deodorant for his birthday.), and a barn and a thorn hat and crosses."

"Sounds wacky," Ron says a bit bluntly, although I think that's just his way, and he doesn't mean anything by it.

"Interesting though," Katie counters, "I've always wanted to know more about Muggles."

"Puggles," Ron and I correct at the same time.

We turn to each other and I say,

"I thought we agreed never to do that again."

"You started it," Ron argues.

I refuse to respond to that. I turn to Katie instead and say,

"There's this book called the Bible, I'll get you one and you'll see what I mean."

"Great!" Katie says, sounding genuinely thrilled.

That can't be good.

As the dinner goes on, everyone starts talking about their families. It wasn't a conversation I was looking forward to, if only because I'm not sure exactly how to explain my situation to a load of strangers. These people don't know Dalia or Adam, but they do know that I'm a Black, and most of them know about the whole Dragon tamer thing. It's strange to think that some children I've never met before know more about my biological family than I do.

"I'm a halfblood," a boy named Seamus tells us, "Dad's a muggle. Mum didn't tell Dad she's a witch until they got married. Bit of a surprise for him, it was."

Everyone else laughs, but I don't really see what's so funny. That's a pretty massive thing to lie about, not that it's a bad thing to be a Witch or Wizard, but it's definitely something you should tell the person you're in love with. I mean, being Magikal is a big part of who you are from what I've seen so far, how can you even have a real relationship with someone who doesn't know something that important about you? Maybe I'm a naive idiot like Hermione and Harry say and tease sometimes, but I believe in honesty. I think part of loving someone is having the courage to be honest with them about who you really are, inside and out. Dalia and Adam have that kind of honesty between them and that's one of the reasons why I respect them so much. It can't have been easy for my Guardians with three Magikal children in tow.

"Are they still together?" I ask, wanting to slap myself as soon as the words are out of my mouth. Stupid impulsive brain!

Seamus looks surprised, but luckily not offended when he says,

"Nah, not anymore. They got divorced when I was three."

He doesn't appear that bothered, but my chest still squeezes in sympathy.

"I'm sorry, it wasn't my place to ask. I hope everything is ok though," I say with an apologetic smile.

Seamus waves me off and grins,

"Nah, it's fine. I get two birthdays and two Christmases every year, so it's all good."

Katie is watching me with a strange small smile on her face, but when I turn to look at her properly, her gaze darts away.

Ron asks,

"What about you Neville?"

I grin then at Nev, the boy who's toad I valiantly rescued. He seems really nice, if a little shy.

Neville looks up at us nervously and says,

"My nan's a witch and she raised me. But my family thought I was a Muggle for a long time. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me - he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned - but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

I can't hold in my gasp of dismay. I do try to keep my reaction to myself this time though. But really, how awful. No wonder Neville is so shy if his family is completely neglectful of his personal safety. I'd be nervous too if I thought someone was going to throw me out of a bloody window for no reason.

Despite trying to hide it, Neville must see something in eyes or on my face, and he ducks his head in embarrassment. Now that makes me feel guilty, because it's not Neville's fault at all. I smile kindly at him and say loud enough so only he will hear me,

"I'm glad we're friends."

Neville's eyes widen in response,

"Friends?" he sounds unsure.

I raise one eyebrow,

"Unless you don't want to be...I know I'm kind of..."

"Different," Neville supplies, and his cheeks redden again.

I laugh loudly,

"I was gonna say a complete weirdo, but yeah, 'different' works too."

There's a long pause, and for a moment I really do worry that he won't want to be friends, that I've scared him off by being too...well, me.

"I like different," Neville says quietly.

"Me too," I agree with a nod.

At some point that blond boy, Ajax, comes striding in, and after a whispered conversation between him and the other students at the round table, they all leave together. Silently. I really hope they haven't taken Hermione off for her ninja initiation. At least not without me.

I'm in the middle of explaining my 'save the penguin' operation to Katie when something cold and new makes my birthmark burn. But it doesn't feel like heat, it feels more like when you touch ice for too long and it stings painfully. Without meaning to I slap a hand over my chest and hiss through clenched teeth.

"Are you alright?" Katie asks me, concern in her voice.

I nod jerkily, but the pain gets a little worse. I desperately need to see Harry, and that's all I can think about. If my mark is going weird, then maybe his scar is acting up too.

I look up, with the intention of searching Harry out, but when I do my eyes practically collide with his. Harry is already staring at me, and there's a dangerous glow to his eyes. I can tell he's in pain, but no one else would. It's not in Harry to show any kind of weakness.

Just as suddenly as it came, the weird icy pain is gone, and I breathe a sigh of relief. My eyes are still locked with Harry's, although now that the pain is gone, I can see that he's dividing his attention between me and the professors table.

I put a question in my eyes that I know Harry will recognise, he always seems to understand me like that. Sometimes it's a little eerie, but other times it's helpful, like right now.

Harry stares at me for a long moment, and then mouths,

"Later," and looks away.

I frown at him. 'Later', what the flip? I hate it when Harry does this, he never tells me anything until it's convenient for  _him_  to do so. I almost want to throw a fireball at him, just so he won't be able to ignore me.

But I won't do that, because violence never solves anything. And because I don't know how to make a fireball.  _Yet_. We'll just see how all powerful and whatever the mighty forehead's sidekick is when I throw a fireball at his face.

Although knowing Harry, he'd probably just freeze it and send it right back at me. And he'd find a way to do it without actually acknowledging me at all.

I stop myself from rolling my eyes in annoyance, because I'm already getting various looks from people all over the hall. I don't need my weirdo-meter to go any higher.

But I do look over at the professor's table when Harry appears to make eye contact with someone. I realise quite quickly that they're staring at each other in an almost challenge-like way. The professor has dark hair and a hooked nose. He looks the...difficult sort. But I try not to judge people before I know them properly. Especially adults, because they can be tricky and oddly complicated at times. Kinda like spiders, you never really know what they're gonna do. Make a pretty web, or suck the blood out of a helpless fly like an eight legged monster. Not that adults suck blood. Hold on, do vampires exist? Remind me to ask that one, straight after I ask the sorting hat about his rights.

"Who's that professor with the dark hair...and who's the one wearing that turban next to him?" I ask...anyone who will answer me.

Fred and George take it upon themselves to twin speak,

"The one in the turban is Professor Quirrell-"

"-and the other one is Professor Snape, he teaches Hallucinogen-"

"-but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job because-"

"-Quirrell teaches Psionic Materialization."

I nod in thanks, but continue to watch Harry's stare-off with Snapy, although my own gaze keeps straying to Professor Squirrel. There's something about him that makes me feel uneasy, in a way I've never felt before about anyone else. I wish I could tell Harry and Hermione about it, but they're not here. Not really anyway.

I wonder if this is what it's going to be like, the three of us slowly pulling away from each other. I hope not, but it's not something I can control either. Dalia used to say that life can change who you are, that it has that power. I don't want to ever change enough that Harry and Hermione aren't the two people I love most in the world. They're my family.

But I can have friends too.

I find myself smiling at Katie and Ron, both of whom eventually notice and return the smile.

Harry and Snapy appear to stop staring at each other at the exact same moment, as though their battle of wills has been decided and settled without a word actually spoken between them. Harry doesn't look back at me, but his eyes do narrow on Professor Squirrel for a moment, before his expression becomes emotionless again. He turns back to a boy sitting next to him, I think his name is Blaise, and they seem to begin a quiet discussion.

"What's wrong?" Katie asks me, and Ron leans in to hear my answer too.

I answer without thinking,

"Professor Squirrel still gives me the moths in my tummy feeling."

Ron snorts out a laugh, and Katie hides a giggle behind her hand.

"What?" Ron asks me.

I shrug at them,

"You know, like butterflies, but bad."

I sense that my brain has yet again betrayed me when Ron and Katie start laughing again.

"No, we meant the 'Professor Squirrel' part," Katie says.

I subtly point at the teacher with the turban, careful not to catch his eye. I have a feeling having him notice me would be a very bad thing.

"You mean Professor Quirrell?" Ron tilts his head at me.

I wave a hand dismissively,

"Yeah, yeah, Quirrell, Squirrel, Muirrell, whatever, same thing."

Katie and Ron start laughing again, and this time so do I.

** Harry's P.O.V **

"Professor Snape is our head of house," Blaise explains dryly, "My mother told me it's best to stay on his good side."

I'm not sure if Professor Snape has a good side, but that's just a prejudgment based on his behaviour so far. It's quite possible that the man simply doesn't like me in particular. The way he was almost glaring at me before would suggest so. Not that he's looked at all pleased to see any of the new Slytherin students so far. But he also hasn't given any of them a death look either.

"And that man next to him is Professor Quirrell, yes," I ask coolly, keeping my interest as neutral as possible.

Blaise nods once,

"Yes, he's supposed to be a very accomplished and powerful wizard"

There's a loaded meaning behind the words 'supposed to be', and Blaise makes no attempt to hide it. I have to agree with him, Professor Quirrell does not strike me as a man with power and strength, in fact he appears to be exactly the opposite. Weak and...scared.

Which of course means one of two things. The first is that he's pretending to behave in that way to trick others into trusting him. A very cunning and well executed plan from the looks of things, considering the position he holds at Hogwarts. I imagine not many people are offered the chance to work in such a place as this.

Or, the second option is that he's genuinely frightened, which is worrying. Mostly because I can feel his power, as it sort of syncs in tune with mine in the strangest way. Almost like the bond Draco and I share, but at the same time nothing like it at all.

So, the worrying part is, what could make a man so powerful and highly educated be that afraid.

And even worse, why am I, an eleven year old boy, apparently the only one making these connections. Dumbledore is a clever man, I'm sure of that at least. So the fact that he's ignoring something this blatantly obvious, is suspicious with itself.

Draco would probably tell me I'm being even more paranoid than usual, and Hermione would just sigh and shake her head at me. Either that or she'd insist on helping me investigate the problem.

I notice Pansy glancing over at me every few seconds again, and I suppress a sigh. I'm really over this whole 'stare at the scarhead hero' thing.

I catch her mid stare once, and she looks pointedly away and down at the table. A moment later she lifts her head up high and sniffs, as if shrugging off my raised eyebrow and questioning look.

"If you want to ask me something about my parents' death, or my scar, then you should do so now, because I won't put up with a year of awkward glances from you or anyone else," I say in a firm tone of voice. I know all the Slytherin's near us are listening, even though none of them are actually looking at us. Thankfully the older Slytherin's seem to know not to stare. I'm not sure if it's some kind of dignity issue, or if Purebloods are taught such etiquette by their parents. Most of the people in Slytherin are from old pureblood families, that much is definitely true. The 'evil' part is obviously a load of rubbish. Anyone can do bad things, you don't need to be a Dark wizard for that.

Pansy looks shocked at my words, and I wonder if I was too forward. I wasn't raised the way she probably was, so I don't understand the socially acceptable way to react to things. I've read a few Pureblood books, and I get the gist mostly, but I'll need a lot more information if I'm going to keep up with the people in my house. I'm usually alright with being dubbed as an outcast, but this is different. These people could be useful to me at some point in the future. I don't want to burn any bridges yet.

I slide a glance over to Blaise, who appears very amused, but only his eyes betray that amusement. My attention snaps back to Pansy when she says,

"I apologise for my inappropriate interest in your personal affairs. It will not happen again." Her voice is prim, and concise, but I sense some apprehension in her tone, and more than a little awe. Most likely of my power and Magik.

I give her a slight head tilt and reply,

"I appreciate your apology, and I accept it."

Pansy narrows her eyes ever so slightly at me, as if trying to find mocking in my words, but eventually she just glances away with a small nod. Although her expression does turn into more of scowl when she looks at Blaise, and she says,

"Oh, shut up, Blaise."

Blaise lets out a cough of laughter in response and arches an eyebrow at me.

"You really got her, and I thank you on behalf of us all."

Pansy huffs in a dignified manner and says,

"Don't corrupt Harry Potter, he doesn't need your ridiculousness infecting him."

Before Blaise can reply, I say,

"Harry is fine, no need to add the Potter."

Pansy looks like she wants to roll her eyes, but is too well bred to do so.

"I can make friends with-Harry-if I want to, Pansy." Blaise says with a wry smirk.

I find a smile working it's way onto my face as I inform them both,

"I'm quite used to ridiculousness, there isn't anything you could do that would most likely shock me."

"Ah, yes, you're friends with that girl who was taken away and Draco Black, aren't you?" Blaise says with a knowing look.

I raise an eyebrow at him questioningly,

"Draco and Hermione are my family, we were raised together." I don't really like giving up that information, but I can't see a reason not to either.

Both Pansy and Blaise's eyes widen in surprise, although they manage to get control over themselves rather quickly.

"That's...interesting," Blaise says finally after a lengthy pause.

I decide not to comment. The last thing I want to do is come off as defensive. I have nothing to defend. My family may be unorthodox, but there's nothing wrong with how I was raised. I'm definitely not ashamed of who I am, and the fact that Dalia and Adam are muggles. There's nothing anyone could say that would make me feel anything but complete respect for my Guardians. Even so, I'm not about to announce to everyone that Draco, Hermione and I were brought up completely ignorant of this world.

Near the end of dinner, Dumbledore stands up again and moves behind his podium to give some kind of speech. My attention is now solely focused on him. If I'm going to learn all I need to know about Dumbledore, then I'll have to be patient and vigilant at all times. I look forward to the challenge, if nothing else.

"Alright then, just a few more words now that we have all eaten. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you." Dumbledore begins in that strange rumbly tone of his, "First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore looks pointedly at the Gryffindor table, and part me wishes I was over there with Draco, so I could tell him he is not to go into the forbidden forest alone. Or at all. Because if any first year is mental enough to do it, then that first year would always be Draco. I can practically see him now, following a Magikal creature into the forest like Alice following the white rabbit. It would be just like Draco to stumble upon a secret portal to another world. In fact I almost expect that kind of craziness from him by now. I can't decide if that's sad or scary.

Dumbledore continues after a moment,

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Xenta trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Woah, throw a curve ball in there why don't you.

A few students laugh, but it's clear to me that Dumbledore is completely serious. I wonder what is on the third-floor. I also wonder if it has anything to do with the super secret package from Gringotts. And finally I wonder what kind of idiot wouldn't make that connection. First a secret package in need of hiding. Then a secret forbidden floor at the very place the package was being taken to.

What I really need to decide is if Dumbledore planned for me to know about it, or if he really just thinks I'm enough of a moron not to question the coincidence. Either way, I think I'm offended.

"I want you all to have a good year, so search deep within and let your element guide you," Dumbledore finishes with flourish.

He looks over at me then and adds, almost as an afterthought it seems,

"I'm sure you will all use your Magik wisely."

It's a warning, pure and simple. I try not to let myself get angry, because it won't help. I stare back at Dumbledore with the most stony expression I can manage. He keeps on looking at me for what feels like hours, but must have only been a few seconds. Finally his penetrating gaze flickers away, and I almost smirk, but just about manage to control the impulse.

I feel more than see Draco's eyes on me. I always feel him. It's something I've gotten so used to over the years that it barely even registers as strange anymore.

There's another question in his pale eyes, and a spark of something gold crackles around the ring of black within his iris. It makes me shiver a little. His power practically dances with mine, even more so now that it's completely free after the unlocking.

I communicate to him in our own private way that I'll answer his questions when we're alone, with Hermione.

Draco seems dangerously close to getting angry, and his eyes crackle more dramatically. His power batters against mine, as if to make a point. I smile as softly as I dare at Draco. He immediately relents and smiles back at me. That's the thing about Draco, he'll forgive me almost anything when I 'show my emotional side', as he calls it, in public. It's a bit manipulative of me, I know, but it works, so I don't really feel bad about it.

Not long after Dumbledore's speech, the prefects from each house leader the first years out of the hall. I take one last look at Draco before I lose sight of him in the crowd. I decide that we'll meet up later and find Hermione, because there's no way either of us will get any sleep otherwise.

The Slytherin prefect, Vaine, takes us through the winding palace of crystal until we reach a blue door seemingly made out of ice. Vaine steps forward and I watch in abstract fascination as he presses his hand against the big ice door and says,

"Aquamatrix"

The door seems to course with light, and the sound of waves crashing fills my ears. When the door dissolves into the ground, the rest of the first year Slytherin students and I follow Vaine through into a cave-like dormitory, decorated in dark green and silver.

As promised all of our things are already in our rooms. We share in two's instead of four's, because there are a lot less Slytherin students. I consider myself lucky to end up with Blaise, since he's the only Slytherin first year I feel even marginally comfortable with. I hadn't anticipated how reluctant I would feel to sleep in a new place with so many unknowns.

Blaise and I talk a little more before getting ready for bed. He tells me about his mother and bits and pieces of information both about himself and pureblood ways. I get away with not saying much at all, but I think that's just because Blaise is tired. To be honest, so am I. But I can't possibly sleep until I know that Hermione is alright. I meant what I said, if anything has happened to her, then I will put my power to use in a big way. I can feel it swirling and rushing around me, almost as if I'm under water and my Magik is an endless sea. I make sure Yang is settled in, and Spero, who slithers up onto the big canopy and makes his bed there. I hiss quietly to Spero when Blaise is asleep that he must keep himself out of sight until I know I can trust Blaise not to tell anyone about my snake's existence. Spero hisses back his understanding and complies reasonably. My snake is very well behaved, and although he can be sneaky and opinionated, he always does as  _I_  tell him. God knows if Draco's snake, Vita, will reveal himself to everyone or not. Just like his human counterpart, Vita can be very unpredictable.

A few hours later, when I think everyone is most likely asleep, I get up and pull on the few muggles clothes I brought, just in case. Sneaking out isn't as difficult as I thought it might be, and soon enough I'm trying to find my way through the gleaming palace of crystal. I'm not sure where the Gryffindor dorms are, so I put all my effort into concentrating on Draco's presence, letting our bond show me how to find him. I frown when I realise he's much closer than I expected, and moving closer with every second.

I smile to myself when Draco rounds the corner and I wait for him to notice me too. It's semi dark, but the moonlight shines through the crystal, creating a somewhat dim light.

Draco's face breaks out into a grin when he realises I'm here, and after a short pause, he launches himself at me. I grab him in time, and haul Draco into a bone crushing embrace. We hold onto each other for a long time, and our Magik pretty much vibrates with awareness around us. It seems like no time at all has passed when I hear a voice from a short distance away whisper,

"I hope you realise how insane you both look right now."

My head snaps up fast, and I look over Draco's shoulder, already berating myself for not paying attention. Any of the professors could have walked by and seen us.

Draco pulls away from me and turns around, another grin lighting up his face when he see's Hermione leaning against a wall, watching us with an amused look in her eyes.

"Hermon!" Draco exclaims, "You're alive!"

Hermione scoffs at him,

"Of course I'm alive, you lunatic."

Draco ignores the insult and rushes towards her. He yanks Hermione into his arms and spins her around like he used to do when we were younger. They both laugh quietly and I allow myself to enjoy the sight and feeling of us all being together again.

I know deep down in my bones that this is how it should be.

The three of us.

United.


	8. Endless Wondering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)

 

** Endless Wondering **

**Hermione's P.O.V**

So of course, Draco completely lost it when I told him about the whole Zanikai/God law/...well pretty much all of it was worth shouting about really.

It took Harry and I a long time to calm him down, which was made even more difficult by the fact that Harry's temper kept flaring viciously. He isn't any more pleased about it than I am. I hate that I'm now part of something I never chose, and that my options have been so harshly limited. But at the same time there isn't much I can do about it.

I hate even more that this means I'll be separated from the boys a lot more than any of us would like. Harry also thinks it's an outrage that we can't inform Dalia and Adam of my new Godly status. But when I say outrage, what I really mean is seething anger that makes everyone within a ten foot radius choke on Harry's magik.

Meeting the other Olympians did actually help a little. They were welcoming, if a bit reserved. I suppose to them I'm as much a stranger as they strangers are to me.

I went through with the ceremony to induct me into official Zanikai-dom. I would have preferred to discuss it with Harry and Draco first, but even that option was taken from me. I decided to only tell Harry about that part, because it was clear by that point that Draco was unable to take any more restrictions on my freedom. The last thing I want is to become one of his projects. I don't need saving, or rescuing, or freeing. I told him so, and we argued half the night about it.

Eventually it was Harry who convinced Draco to stand down, and that was only because I asked him to.

"It'll sound mental, but I feel like I need to do this on my own," I told Harry. He must have seen something in his eyes to convince him because he only nodded once, firmly, and said,

"I trust you, you know that. But if you need me,  _us_ , then we'll be right here."

I really tried not to show how much those words, and his support, means to me. I don't think I quite managed to conceal it, because Harry actually squeezed my hand in a rare show of affection. I won't feel too bad about that though because trying to hide things from Harry is pretty much a lost cause. I almost feel bad for Dumbledore, because Harry's got his scent now, like a snake, or a shark. Either way, I have no doubt that Harry will get whatever information he wants. I decided not to ask what exactly he felt he might find out. Apart from the whole secret package bit. We all three of us discussed that for the rest of the night and the early morning.

I agreed with Harry that it all seems quite suspicious, when you think about it, although Draco accused us both of being paranoid. He might be right really, but it couldn't hurt to stay aware and watch out for any more suspicious things.

I believe Harry has already made another enemy, by the name of Professor Snape. Draco calls him Snapy, and for the love of God, I hope he doesn't  _ever_  say that out loud to anyone but us. Harry seems more interested in Professor Qurriell, who Draco calls Professor Squirrel because...reasons.

Eventually we all went back to our separate dorms. I have my own room because there are so few of us training right now. Apparently, according to the other Olympians, there are children training to be Zanikai's all over the world, but that Hogwarts is the most renowned for producing the best of the best. I'm not sure if I want to be the best at killing something, even if it is a Daemon. They all laughed when I said that, like it was one big joke. Maybe to them it was. They all appeared to have known from birth what they are. I feel left out, in a way, but there's plenty of time to make friends, or not as the case may be. There's only two other children my age who are just starting their proper training. They had to go through with the ceremony thing as well. In hindsight, it wasn't that big of a deal. We placed our hand on a weirdly shaped sword, which I'm now thinking must have been an Archblade of some kind, maybe. They said some words in a language I only sort of understood, and I hate to repeat them. It sounded a bit like Latin, or possibly Greek. Eos told me I would learn more about that in my studies. Eos had been right, as soon as the ceremony ended with a cut of my palm, my whole body seemed to light up with endless energy. I feel so much stronger, both physically and magikally.

The two Olympians my age are named Ariadne and Kit. Ariadne is a little shy, but Kit seems quite friendly. I'm actually walking with Kit now to our first class, Physical Tactics. Which to be honest sounds a lot like code for P.E. Kit laughs when I say that to him, and replies in his light upbeat tone of voice,

"Apparently our first class is about testing our limits, so prepare yourself for a very intense game of rounders."

I bust up laughing, mostly because of how serious he sounds. It's exactly the kind of sarcastic remark Draco would make.

It's sad that I miss my boys already. But we've spent so much time together, just the three of us, over the years, that it's almost second nature for me to expect to have them at my side.

Ariadne follows along behind me and Kit. We both keep trying to bring her into the conversation, but all she gives us are one word answers.

"Maybe she's nervous," Kit whispers to me.

"About what?" I ask.

"There's a certain level they expect us to be at, that's why they're testing us," Kit answers with a shrug.

I frown at that,

"What happens if we aren't up to the level they expect?"

Kit gives me a sad look and shakes his head,

"I think you know the answer to that."

Yeah, I think I do.

Maybe we all have good reason to be nervous.

Our first class is inside a big room that looks half like a modern gym and half like a exercise hall. There's a boxing ring in the middle and lots of different machines scattered around.

For today it's just the three of us newby's and the second years, of which there are only two. Their names are Castiel and Xander. Well, at least amongst my fellow Olympians I can officially stop worrying about having a weird name. So that's something.

Our teacher is a very tall and well muscled man, a Demi-God, who tells us to call him Sax. He's just about the most imposing person I've ever met, and yes, I'm already a little afraid of him. Unlike Hagrid, a big but almost lovable oaf, Sax gives off the air of someone who could and would cause his enemies serious harm.

"For the next few weeks, we will be getting a feel for your natural ability, as well as your endurance level," Sax says to Kit, Ariadne and I, in a booming voice that echoes off the walls.

I'm liking this less and less. I pull nervously on my new black training clothes.

"We'll start with laps. 50 times around the hall," Sax instructs us.

Ariadne raises her hand timidly, and Sax nods,

"Yes?"

"What about stretching? Shouldn't we do that before any heavy duty running?" Her voice is quiet, but there's a lace of steel to it that surprises me.

Sax shakes his head and barks,

"Zanikai do not stretch. They run for their lives if they need to. So go on, get going."

I don't wait around to be yelled at, and I start running around the large training gym. Kit soon follows after me, and he catches up with minimal effort. I figure the best way not to get a stitch is to keep it steady and not push myself too soon or too quickly. I hear the slap of shoe hitting laminate, and I assume Ariadne is now behind us.

Once we're a few laps in, Kit looks over at me and asks,

"Did you really have no idea you're an Olympian?"

It's the kind of question I'm expecting to be asked a lot, and so I say,

"Yes. I mean, I always suspected I was different. When Dumbledore told me I was a witch, everything seemed to make sense. But now nothing makes sense at all. "

Kit simply cocks one eyebrow and nods,

"I've known since I was five. My father is a Wizard and he raised me. My absentee mother is a Demi-God."

"So you've been training for a while before now?" I ask curiously.

Kit laughs, his breathing coming out evenly still,

"A bit, I suppose. My father is an Auror, so he treated me like another one of his young cadets most of the time. How about you?"

"How about me what?" I hedge a little, not sure if I should be talking too much about my home life.

Kit gives me a wry smile,

"No worries if you don't want to tell me."

I feel a little bit stupid then, I mean, why shouldn't I tell this perfectly nice boy about my family? Surely everyone in school knows anyway from either Draco or Harry.

"Sorry, I'm just getting used to...everything," I mumble, embarrassed.

Kit simply shrugs and says,

"I getcha, I'd probably feel the same way. In fact sometimes, I do."

"I was raised by muggles. My other muggle parents died when I was seven. Dalia and Adam took me in. Adam is my God-father," I say in a rush.

That gets me a quirked eyebrow from Kit,

"' _Other_ ' muggle parents?"

"It turns out the people who I thought were my parents were actually just my first set of adoptive parents," I explain. It still feels strange to think that I don't know anything about my biological parents. I guess I'm more like Harry and Draco now than I was before. Although I don't even know if my biological parents are alive or not. I'm almost afraid to ask.

I wonder if this is what Harry felt like when he asked Dumbledore about his parents. Maybe I'll try to talk to Harry about it at some point. Then again, probably not. I don't want to raise any painful subjects for Harry, especially as I'm not really ready to face the truth myself yet.

"That sounds...complicated," Kit says slowly, as if trying to get his head around it all. Him and me both.

"That's because it  _is_  complicated," I sigh heavily, and we lapse into silence for a while.

Running actually helps a little, as long as I concentrate solely on what I'm doing. Taking one breathe at a time, one step in front of the other.

I'm surprised to find that even after fifty laps, I still don't feel tired. In fact I feel like running another fifty laps just to see how far I can push myself. I think that's the whole point, because Sax gets us to do twenty push ups to cool down. I don't think that makes sense, but whatever, I'm not exactly the expert. Maybe I can find some books on Olympian stamina, or at least something about how our bodies work.

Sax has the two second year boys show us a few easy moves inside the boxing ring, but he doesn't get us to try them yet. Maybe next session, he says. We also get to try out a few of the machines. I find that I'm particularly fond of the rowing machine. It's simple and doesn't ask for too much coordination.

By the end of our first class I'm definitely starting to feel the burn. My whole body aches. Kit says that's a good thing, but he said it with a smirk, so I'm not sure if he was just messing with me.

I look forward to more classes that don't include the physical workouts. I especially can't wait to push my mind reading abilities further. I feel like my mental Magik is expanding ever since I officially became a Zanikai in training.

But first I have to pass this stupid physical training test. I don't like not knowing what to expect, or how I'm meant to react to things. It would be easier if we could just go at our own pace, but that clearly isn't the way things are going to be from now on. As nice as Eos has been, I have no delusions that she's actually on my side at all. In fact I don't even trust Ajax. Maybe especially Ajax.

I've seen in a couple of times, and each time he looks more and more reserved and emotionless. I wonder what happened to him to make him feel like he has to be so stoic all the time. I know from experience that outward coldness usually means you're hiding something heartbreaking. I should really introduce him to Harry properly, they can compare notes on how to make the most serious face ever.

...

**Draco's P.O.V**

"Wow, look, it's him."

"No way, it's just a rumour."

"It's true!"

"Where is he then?"

"Over there, by the red haired boy and the orange eyed girl, see?"

"Woah, he's definitely a Black?"

"Yeah, for sure."

"Do you think he's ever ridden a Dragon?"

"Of course, he's a Black."

I almost turn and attempt to find the people whispering about me, but then I realise that would be just about everyone. Except the people whispering about Harry. Or the whispering about Hermione being an Olympian. Or the people whispering about Harry, me and Hermione being raised by puggles.

I lean in close to Ron and say,

"I am so famous right now!"

Katie, who overheard, snorts out a laugh, and says,

"Well yeah,  _you're_  the missing Black heir, and Potter is the..well,  _you know_."

"Yeah, yeah, the mighty foreheads sidekick, I know," I look over at Harry, who is sitting with that Blaise boy again. They appear to be having a discussion which includes a lot of sideways covert glances over at the Professors table.

Hermione already left with her group of ninja friends for their first class. My blood boils at even the thought of what Hermione told us last night. I've never been so angry about anything in my whole life. What right do they have to say Hermione can only ever be a Zanikai and nothing else? Exactly, no right at all. I wish she'd let me help her fight back against that kind of oppression, but Harry did that annoying soothe-the-lunatic-Draco thing and I ended up promising not to get involved. I hate it when he does that. I hate even more that it works. Every. Single. Time.

"Manipulative ice wielding scar head tosser," I mutter.

Although I only realise I said it out loud when Ron laughs at me and says,

"I'd keep that opinion to yourself mate. Not that I don't believe you. But best not upset the masses by calling their Hero an ice wielding tosser eh." He snickers at the last bit.

I make a face at Ron,

"I didn't say anything about the mighty forehead, I was talking about it's sidekick, Harry,"

"Rubbish choice for a sidekick, clearly," Katie says in a teasing tone.

"I've been saying that all along," I agree with a smile at my new friend.

Breakfast is almost over, and it'll be time for our first class. Actually, speaking of...

"What's our first class again?" I ask my friends.

"Hallucinogen with the Slytherins," Ron says, "Snape's head of Slytherin House. Apparently he favours them quite a lot. I don't know how he'll be with Potter though."

"Who's our head of house?" I ask, deciding not to delve too deeply into whatever stare-down thing is going on between Snapy and the ice wielding tosser. They can fight it out on their own time. Or during class most likely.

"Professor McGonagall," Katie tells me, "She's going be teaching us Dreamscaping and Telepathy."

"Watch out!" Someone shouts suddenly. A second later a load of owls come flying into the hall.

I find myself laughing when a few of the muggle-borns jump in surprise. Ying stops by my table with a letter in her beak for me. I notice that Yang has brought one for Harry too.

We agreed to leave Spero and Vita in our rooms for now, until we get a better idea of how strict Hogwarts is. The place is quite difficult to navigate, what with so many stair cases, and twisty corridors. Sometimes it almost feels like we're walking through a maze.

I open up my note and smile at the contents,

_'Dear Draco,_

_I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me?_

_I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Ying._

_Hagrid '_

I quickly write a note back saying that I'd love to come and visit on Friday, because I really would. If anyone would know stuff about Magikal creatures, then it's Hagrid, and I want to know everything.

I figure he sent a very similar note to Harry, and my thoughts are confirmed when Harry looks up at me with a scowl on his face. He mouths, 'not going'. I roll my eyes and mouth back 'why not?' Harry raises an ebony eyebrow and simply stares at me. The stare says more than anything he could have said. I sigh heavily and nod in acknowledgement. If anyone dared ask him why he doesn't want to go see Hagrid, Harry would just tell them that he's too busy with more important things. But I know the truth. The way Hagrid treats Harry makes him really uncomfortable, and especially the way Hagrid talks about his parents. I can understand why Harry doesn't want to risk that kind of situation. He's never been good with his own emotions, especially in regards to his dead parents. His usual response is just to hide everything until he's somewhere private where he can allow himself to feel things.

I turn away from Harry's knowing emerald gaze and give Ying some bits of food to keep her happy. She flies off with my reply soon after, and Yang does the same with Harry's.

I turn to Ron and Katie, both of whom are watching me curiously. I appreciate that they don't ask any questions about Harry though, which is another reason why I ask them,

"Do you feel like coming with me on Friday to visit Hagrid?"

"Isn't that the grounds keeper who's half giant?" Katie asks.

"Yeah, that's him. He's really sweet, and I figured I could ask him some questions about the whole Dragon tamer thing because I heard he's...interested Magikal creatures."

"I heard that too," Ron says, taking another massive chomp of toast.

Katie gives Ron a look that clearly says 'ew' in girl language. I've had a lot of practice picking these sort of things up from Hermione.

"I'd love to go with you," Katie says, apparently dismissing Ron's lack of manners.

Ron gives me a thumbs up and mutters through another bite of toast,

"Sounds good, mate." It actually comes out sounding more like ''Suns goo ate," But I got the gist.

On the way to Snapy's lesson me and my friends get practically cornered by someone I really didn't want to see any time soon. It's Weedy, from the clothes shop in Diagon Alley. He looks just as specky and up himself as he did then. Except this time he's got bodyguards. Damn. And they are  _big_  bodyguards too. I think I remember them from the unlocking, both Slytherins, their names are something like Scab and Boil. Or at least their names  _sound_  like those words. A bit.

Ron immediately goes on the defensive and glares at Weedy. I guess there's something I'm not aware of, because Weedy glares right back with an equal amount of hatred in his beady eyes.

"Knott," Ron grumbles.

"Weasley," Weedy says with a haughty sniff.

Yep, defiantly something I'm missing here.

Suddenly Weedy turns a condescending smile on me and says,

"Black, that's who you are then?"

Um. I'm not sure how he wants me to answer that, considering he looks so sure that he knows the answer is obviously 'yes'. I decide to go with the first thing that pops into my head, don't give me that look metaphorical Hermione.

"Nope," I say to Weedy.

He looks really confused for a moment, and I swallow down the urge to laugh. Even Katie has to muffle a giggle at the startled expression on the bodyguards' faces.

"What do you mean, no? You are Draco Black," Weedy says, with more force this time behind his voice.

I shake my head slowly at him,

"Nah, my name's...Tom."

Katie and Ron both give me a sideways glance, but like good friends they also nod like Weedy is an idiot for thinking I am who I actually am and not Tom, the person I'm pretending to be. Work that one out.

Weedy looks even more confused, and a little less uppity than before. Then he narrows his eyes at me and says,

"Tom who?"

Uh oh.

"Um, Tom..." Why the flip is this so hard? Just pick a name brain and say it! Any name! Do it! Do it now! "...Snape."

Oh flip brain, any name but that one you moron!

Weedy's eyes widen at that, and to be honest I'm pretty impressed because his eyes are so teeny tiny. Unfortunately bigger eyes don't make him look any less Weedy, and they definitely don't make him sound like any less of a prat when he says,

"You're related to Professor Snape? How is that even possible, you're too powerful to be a half-blood?"

I find myself glaring at him alongside Ron and Katie, and I reply angrily,

"Woah, first of all, half-blood's can be just as powerful as any other type of Wizard," Harry is proof enough of that, "and secondly I am Professor Snape's  _favourite_  nephew, so you better think really carefully about what you say around me."

I have no idea what I'm saying, all I know is that I can't seem to stop myself. Katie is finding it really hard not to laugh now, I can tell by the way her shoulders are jerking slightly.

Weedy peers at me suspiciously again,

"Are you being serious?"

Never, I almost say, but instead I manage to get out the words,

"Deadly. My name is Tim-"

"Tom-" Ron coughs.

"Right, I mean my name is  _Tom_  Snape. I am your head of house's nephew, so...beware," I wiggle my fingers at him in a creepy foreboding way.

"Why are you doing that with your fingers, you look ridiculous," Katie whispers to me 'covertly' behind her hand.

"Shhh, I'm creating ambiance for this very important moment," I whisper back. Katie almost chokes on a laugh. I don't know what she finds so funny.

"But lots of people are saying you're Draco Black," Weedy says sounding flabbergasted. There is also the fact that I stood up in front of everyone and said that my name is Draco Black, but whatever.

I shrug at Weedy,

"I don't care what people are saying, my name is Tod-"

"-Tom" Ron coughs again.

"- _Tom_ Snape...so...yeah." Why do I even speak words? I should be banned, for the sake of humanity.

Weedy starts to back away slowly right about then,

"Oh, well, right...I'll see you in class then...Tom."

"Righto," I say, mock saluting him at the same time.

Weedy's bodyguards follow him silently as he quickly walks away. Katie, Ron and I last about three seconds before we burst out laughing like a pack of hyenas.

"Mate...just..you're insane, Draco," Ron says when we finally calm down enough to talk without falling over.

"That's Ted to you!" I say loudly.

"TOM!" Katie and Ron practically shout back at the same time.

We carry on laughing all the way to class.

It turns out Snape does favour Slytherins-except for Harry.

Slytherin students sit on one side of the room, whilst Gryffindor's sit on the other. I'm not sure if that's a rule, like in the hall, or something to do with the obvious house rivalry stuff. Either way, I completely ignore it and drag Katie, Ron and somehow Neville over to a long desk on the Slytherin side of the room. I sit down next to Harry, and Ron sits down next to me, with Katie on his other side next to Neville. Nev looks pretty nervous to be anywhere near the Slytherins, Harry, or even just to be here in general. I give him a big smile and two thumbs up. He smiles back, looking slightly more confident. Ish. Like a mouse being handed a toothpick to fight off a horde of cats.

Harry actually smirks at me, like he'd been waiting for me to do something like this. I poke my tongue out at him, the smug sod. That boy Blaise is sitting on the other side of Harry, and he's got this knowing smirk on his face that unsettles me a bit. I'm not sure if Harry should make friends with people who are smirky and cunning. Flip knows he doesn't need any encouragement in those areas.

Most of the Gryffindors are staring at us like we're mad, and I can tell Ron is feeling a little ansty about it too. But he doesn't get up to move, so I take that as a good sign. If nothing else, I think Ron Weasley is stubborn enough to stick by any decision he makes, including being my friend, no matter what. The Slytherins don't seem all that pleased to have us either, and I'm pretty sure the only reason they're not saying anything is because of Harry. Although Blaise just looks ever so slightly amused by it all.

Snapy appears just as scary and 'grrr-me no like you' as before, dressed in all black Elemental style clothing. He looks a bit like a 18th century tax collector. Or at least what I imagine a 18th century tax collector would look like.

Snapy takes out a register and starts reading our names. I can see that Weedy is watching me, so I take care to look like an adoring nephew. Although I realise the flaw in my plan when Snapy reads out my name. His eyes actually widen just a bit at the name 'Black', and his gaze snaps up when I say 'here' and raise my hand like a twit. Snapy stares at me for a long moment, and I stare back.

I'm not sure what to make of the look on his face, but for some reason I think it's almost worry, not quite fear and not quite pity either. It's strange, because I get the idea that this man doesn't often show much of anything. So whatever he's feeling when he looks at me must be pretty intense for that mask to crack even just a little. It's only for a short moment though, because then he's looking away and his face shows nothing but the usual disdain again.

Harry is now watching Snapy even more closely, having not missed the brief moment between me and our new professor. I also notice that Weedy is now staring daggers at me. Whoops, guess we really won't be friends any time soon.

When Snapy gets to Harry's name, he pauses again, although the look he sends Harry's way is more one of disgust and possibly loathing. Snapy says,

"Ah, yes, Mr. Potter-our new...celebrity."

Ouch. I felt the ice in that comment.

Harry doesn't react at all, merely watching Snapy with a bored expression on his face. If Snapy wants a reaction out of Harry, then he's gonna have to try a lot harder than that. Hermione and I have been at it for years, and we still barely succeed most of the time.

When Snapy's done calling out names, he places the register on his desk and turns back to face us. His eyes are cold and dark like a raven's.

"You are here to learn the subtle art of illusion." Snapy says. His voice is quiet and clinical, but there is an undertone of authority that none of us could possibly miss. He continues, "There will be no 'inner self searching' in my class. You will leave your elemental distractions at the door. Hallucinogen is an under appreciated form of Magik, but only to those who cannot see the bigger picture, only to those who cannot look beyond their own misconceptions of what they see, hear and feel. I can teach you how to perfectly manipulate the minds of others, to ensnare your enemies and enchant your desires by using your mind to change both yourselves and the world around you. That is, if you aren't a group of impatient idiots like most of the students I have to teach."

Uh oh. Harry looks almost scarily interested now, or at least he does to me because I can read him. To everyone else he probably still seems bored and expectant. We all sit in silence for a while. Katie is frowning hard, like it physically pains her to be thought of as an idiot even in an abstract way. I exchange a look with Ron that pretty much says it all. I fight down the urge to laugh. Poor Nev almost falls right out of my seat when Snapy suddenly snaps harshly,

"Potter! How would one control the smell of a particularly small illusion?"

Were we meant to read something before this class? I feel like reading of some sort is required to answer that question. I mean I know there were books that we bought about Hallucinogen, but I figured we'd learn as we went along. Obviously, I was wrong. I owe Hermione 50p.

I glance at Ron, and see a look of confusion on his face. Katie clearly knows the answer because she's having to hold onto her hand to stop herself from raising it.

Harry looks anything but ruffled, and he says neutrally,

"Layer it using memory based schematics."

Snapy doesn't show his surprise, but his tone is definitely less volatile when he says,

"And what part of the body is supposedly the most difficult to manipulate?"

Harry doesn't even pause as he answers confidently,

"The eyes are typically said to be the most difficult to change, at least according to Electra's theory of facial illusion."

Everyone is staring at Harry now, and even a few of the more stoic Slytherins look impressed.

But Snapy doesn't seem happy about it. He asks Harry,

"What is the best way to create an illusion that includes living creatures?"

Harry's expression seems to set at that, and for a moment I think he doesn't know the answer. But then he says in that same neutral tone,

"In my opinion it would seem that the most effective way would be to set up a mental pattern of behaviour for those creatures via previous research."

Snapy narrows his dark eyes at Harry, his voice harsh when he says,

"I did not ask for your opinion Mr. Potter. I asked what would be the  _best_  way."

Harry doesn't even miss a beat when he replies just as coldly,

"There are many different theories on what is the 'best' way, I simply chose the one I thought sounded the most plausible."

Oh wow.

A whole class of eleven year olds are now enraptured by the not-quite-an-argument going on between Harry and Snapy. They're staring at each other now, and I fear for all our lives.

Finally, after what feels like forever to me, Snapy gives Harry one last apprising glare, before turning away to address the possible idiots that make up the rest of his class.

"Creating an illusion that includes living beings is a very delicate task. One must take into account every movement, noise, smell and even touch if required. A complex illusion is about more than what you can see, it should capture the attention of all your senses. Selecting the right set of schematics is very important when deciding on the type of illusion you want to produce. Well? Why aren't you writing this down?"

There's some mad scrabbling for pens and paper after that, as we all begin to scribble down what Snapy is saying. To be honest after the first ten minutes I get a little lost. If it was any other teacher then I might raise my hand to ask questions, but you don't need to be a genius to understand that this particular teacher would not appreciate questions.

When Snapy's back is turned I lean a little closer to Harry and murmur,

"Nerd."

Harry's mouth quirks up into a tiny smile, and he mutters back,

"Hippie."

I fight the urge to glare at him. He knows I hate being called that just because I'm a vegetarian.

I turn back to Ron, who looks about as lost as I feel, maybe even more. Katie seems determined to prove just how much of a non-idiot she is. Neville's hands are shaking so badly that he can barely write. Later on we get put into pairs and are each given a piece of wood. The aim is to use our minds to make that piece of wood look like it's got a hole in it.

It turns out that you can create an illusion for only one person, or a group of people, instead just for everyone. But that takes a lot of concentration and practice.

Sounds simple though, right? Just make it look like there's a hole in a bit of wood. Easy. Yeah, not so much actually. Every time I try to connect with the part of my mind and my Magik that would allow me to create the illusion, I keep getting thrown off the moment I get close. By the end of the lesson my head hurts like I've smashed it against a wall, and the only two people who were able to complete the task and hold it for a few seconds was Harry and Katie. They both received a house point. Whatever that is. I was too busy dealing with a migraine to take much notice, although I did congratulate Katie on her skills. Harry was getting enough attention from the Slytherins so I left him to it. Neville somehow managed to set his piece of wood on fire, which I also thought was impressive, but Snapy shouted at him for it, so I guess I was in the minority on that one.

"Stupid boy. Ridiculous fire wizards, always making a fuss and causing trouble," Snapy ranted at Nev, which was unfair and also kind of funny. But when Neville started to cringe so hard that I figured he must be hurting himself, I stepped in, despite Ron's warnings not to, and said to Snapy,

"I did it, Sir. I set his wood on fire...um...for a laugh." I just couldn't stand to see Neville get so upset about something so silly.

Snapy cuts off his own rant, and stares at me. His unfathomable black eyes burning into me like hot coals. I stand my ground though, because I'm nothing if not a stubborn idiot, as Hermione would say. There's a short pause, and out of corner of my eye I see Harry moving slowly towards me, a protective air about his Magik. I shake my head slightly at him, I don't need protecting. Probably.

Snapy says to me bitingly,

"I would have expected no better from a Black heir." Then he turns away and starts talking some more about why the rest of us failed our first task.

He expected no better from a Black heir? What the flip does that mean?

Harry glares at me once, and then turns away. I figure I'm in trouble for the stunt I just pulled.

"You just had to get on his bad side, didn't you?" Ron says to me, shaking his head. Katie is looking at me with an exasperated expression on her face.

I force a big smile and shrug,

"What can I say? I'm just a ridiculous fire wizard who likes to cause trouble." Katie and Ron both laugh at my reference to Snape's previous rant. Neville smiles tentatively at me and says,

"Thanks Draco, you didn't have to do that."

I hit him lightly on the arm and say,

"No big deal, Nev, just try not to set anything else on fire today, yeah, or we'll have to start carrying around fire extinguishers to every class."

Neville chuckles nervously in response.

I try to talk to Harry after class, to convince him that what I did for Neville was the only choice that seemed right to me at the time. But just as we're leaving the best thing that has ever happened in the history of ever, happens. A little Hufflepuff girl comes running up to Harry from whatever class she's just finished and without a word she throws her arms around Harry's waist and yanks him into a full blown hug. It's practically a cuddle.

There's a long pause where everyone is frozen in shock. I really do worry that this little girl's life might be about to end. Harry's face...flipping hell, I've never seen him look so startled by anything before. Not in front of so many people anyway.

I don't realise what's happening until I look beyond the sea of eleven year olds to where a chuckling pair of Weasley twins are standing.

Uh oh. I am so dead if Harry finds out...

When the girl finally pulls back, she gives Harry a wide grin and runs off again without speaking. I think for a moment that I've gotten away with it, but then one of the twins, Fred I think, calls over to me,

"Thanks for the hugging tip, Draco!"

Harry turns back to face me in almost slow motion, and I wave pitifully at him. He glares, as in full on  _glares_ , at me.

Yep, this is how I die.

Before Harry can open his mouth, I check my non-existent watch, and say far too loudly,

"Wow, we're gonna be late, we better go." I yank on Ron's arm and he gets the message. We all but run to our next class.

I don't know when or how, but I'm sure Harry will make me pay for that later.

For the rest of the week, all of our other classes go ok. I really like the Dreamscaping part of Professor McGonagall's lessons, and she says I'm the most talented first year she's ever come across in that area. Harry excels in Professor Flitwick 's class, as he teaches Telekinesis, Harry's strongest mental talent. We don't get a chance to see much of Hermione, because she's in with the Ravenclaw's for most of her lessons. But we've met up twice after lights out to talk about things. Mostly both Hermione and Harry telling me off for getting into trouble, and Harry's deepening suspicions about both Snape and Quirrell. Professor Squirrels class definitely wasn't what I expected. He's meant to be teaching us how to create things using our individual Cinergy, but most of the time he just bumbles on about the theory behind it all. He also gets confused mid way through his lectures and students have had to correct him numerous times. For some reason all that seems to make Harry even more suspicious. Then there's the fact that my birthmark burns with that same icy presence whenever he gets too close. I know that Harry's scar hurts too, even though he won't admit it.

We also discuss Hermione's extra classes, and all the physical training she has to go through. We haven't had our first Elements lesson yet, but we will on Monday. Our professor is actually supposed to be a Demi-God named Leon, according to Hermione.

I asked Hermione if she wanted to come with me to Hagrid's, but she said she'd already promised to spend the afternoon off with Kit to do some more training ready for their assessment next week. She wouldn't tell me why it was so important that she pass it, but I can guess well enough. I still wish she'd let me help, but there isn't much I can do if Hermione is adamant to take care of things by herself.

A little past three, my two friends and I make our way across the grounds towards Hagrid's home. I smile when I see his little cottage style house, it suits him in a weird way. Hagrid lives at the edge of the forbidden forest. Lucky. I bet there are all kinds of magikal creatures in there. So wicked. I don't realise that I'm wondering closer and closer to the forbidden forest until Katie yanks on my arm and Ron says,

"Mate, Hagrid's house is over here."

I nod and give the forbidden forest one last longing look, before moving back towards the small wooden house. I see a crossbow leaning outside the door, and I begin to wonder exactly what one would shoot with a crossbow. Hopefully not students.

I knock on the door and hear a lot of loud banging coming from inside, accompanied by some even louder barking. Then I hear Hagrid's low gruff voice shout,

"Behave yerself-Fang!"

I start to get a little excited, and wonder kind of creature Hagrid would have named 'Fang'. Hagrid opens the door with a huffed grunt, and I smile at him as he practically wrestles with a massive grey dog. Katie and Ron follow me inside when Hagrid manages to pull Fang backwards into the house.

There's only one room inside. Dead animals hang from the ceiling, and I try not to openly gag at the sight. A copper kettle boils on the hob in the corner, and opposite that is a massive bed with all patchwork covers.

"Sit down, yeh make yerselves welcome," Hagrid says, gesturing at a few chairs of varying size and design.

When Hagrid lets go of Fang, the big dog bounds over to us and I go straight in for a good petting. Fang licks my face, and then attacks Ron's. His slober gets all over us, and I can't help but laugh. I scratch behind his ears, and Fang lets out a low grumbled sound in appreciation. His already laboured breathing becomes even deeper. It seems that just like his owner, Fang isn't as tough as he looks.

"This is Ron and Katie," I tell Hagrid, "Thanks for having us over."

"Ah, s'no trouble lad," Hagrid says, and he eyes Ron, "Another Weasley, eh. Yeh stay away from the forest, yer twin brothers give me enough to worry 'bout."

From what Ron's told me, and what I've seen them get up to so far, I imagine the twins cause everyone enough worry for a lifetime.

When we're all sat down, Hagrid offers us some 'rock cake', emphasis on the 'rock' part, because that's what it feels like we're biting into. But we all smile and say it's great, because Hagrid is...well, he's Hagrid. We tell the half giant all about our lessons, and he laughs when I recount the first lesson we had with Professor Sprout, who teaches Healchemic, the ability to do both mental and physical healing using our minds. Weedy somehow managed to accidentally freeze a dead plant instead of regenerating it, and I convinced Boil to lick it, his tongue therefore getting stuck to the frozen plant. Seamus caused his plant to explode. We still aren't sure how though. Professor Sprout demonstrated how to heal a cut on a rat. I protested the mistreatment of the rat, and at some point during class I set the rat free. Neville passed out when the rat, who I'd named Carl, climbed up his trouser leg. All in all, I feel like it was a very successful lesson.

I also tell Hagrid about the way Snapy treated Harry. Hagrid says,

"Don't you be worryin' 'bout Professor Snape, he doesn't like most of his students,"

"But it seemed like he really hated Harry," I mumble, because it's true.

"Rubbish, he's only just met Harry, why would he hate 'im?" Hagrid says with a dismissive wave of his hand, but I don't miss the flicker of discomfort in his eyes.

Hhhhmmm, maybe Harry isn't as paranoid as I thought.

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asks Ron, and I almost frown at the obvious attempt to change the topic. I don't question it though, I'll leave the interrogation's to Harry. I also want to hear more about Charlie's work with Dragons, for obvious reasons. Ever since finding out what my 'family' is famous for, I've been fascinated with Dragons. All week I've been reading every book available on Dragons in my very minimal spare time. They sound like amazing creatures, even more so than I thought before.

When we're on our way back from Hagrid's, pockets heavy and full with rock cakes, I figure we can use them to defend ourselves against the more hateful Slytherins, I think more about the way Snape reacted to me. And Hagrid. And the Goblins for that matter. I saw the paper today about that break in at Gringott's. Harry was reading it at the breakfast table this morning. He looked more interested than I'd like. Not that I'm against us doing some sleuthing, but I always feel a little nervous when Harry gets all intense about something. I told Ron and Katie about everything, and they think it might be something worth looking into as well. All I know is that my life is getting more and more complicated by the day, and I'm not sure whether to be excited or wary for what the future holds.

** Harry's P.O.V **

If nothing else, our first Elements lesson turns out to be quite interesting. We are taken outside to a place that looks a lot like an arena. Or a massive skate park. I suppose it's so we can unleash our elements without having to worry about destroying anything.

Leon, our sort of professor, although he told us never to call him that, is a lithe dark skinned man with brilliant silver eyes. I immediately take a liking to him, although I have idea why. There's a certain spark of intelligence behind those silver eyes that intrigues me. In quite the same way that Professor Snape does. I see brilliance and bitterness both in that dark eyed man, and I wonder how I can make him understand that I want to learn from him in more ways than one. It's clear that he hates me for some personal reason that probably has nothing to do with me, which means it must have something to do with my parents. I can't think of any other connection I could possibly have to Professor Snape. He also looks about the age my biological parents would be now if they'd lived. Not that I'm assuming anything, I am simply guessing using the limited information I have at this point in time.

I stand with Blaise and the rest of the water wizards from our year. The first thing Leon asked us to do was separate into our elements completely. Now he stands in the middle, surrounded by four groups of eleven year olds. I look over at Draco, who also appears to be surrounded by his own new group of friends. He seems to have bonded rather quickly with his fellow Gryffindor's, especially that Ron Weasley boy. I try not to let it bother me that we spend so much less time together now. It's only been a little over a week, but already I feel the divide. After all those years of spending practically every single moment together, it's strange to not have him and Hermione standing at my side. Draco making his jokes, and Hermione being that same calming influence on both of us.

That's not to say that I haven't formed bonds with the other Slytherins. Blaise in particular has been growing on me. He's witty and clever, and he also knows when to keep his mouth shut, which is something I really appreciate. Pansy too has stood out to me as someone possibly worth keeping around. She can be a bit judgemental, but then that's par for the course with most Pureblood's from what I can tell so far. I might have to deal with Theodore Knott at some point. He's being very...vocal about his dislike of muggles, half-bloods, muggle-borns and Draco. How Draco managed to get on that list as a separate entity is beyond me, and Draco just tells me not to worry about it. I won't do anything yet though, not until Knott gives me a real reason to.

My focus shifts back to Leon when he says,

"Your element is a vital part of you, it's the first piece of your soul to be created. And although I would never suggest allowing it to define who you are, it will always be the very core of yourself." Leon walks and turns around as he talks, taking us all in, "Although some of you may be more powerful than others," He looks pointedly at Draco, and then at me. His silver eyes lock with mine as he continues, "just remember that it isn't about how much power you have, it's what you do with it that matters most."

Yes, definitely interesting.

He goes on to tell us how he'll be teaching us to use and control our elements to the best of our individual ability.

Leon has each and every one of his students come and join him in the middle, one after the other. He gets us to create little balls of elemental energy in our palms. It's strange because I expected our elemental power to come from outside sources, and according to Leon it can. But we also have the ability to use the element inside our core.

When I close my eyes and connect with that coil of icy power inside my core, a feeling of elation comes over me. I let the element stream through my body and overwhelm my senses. I can smell salt water, and I can hear the sound of waves crashing. It's an incredible rush, like nothing else I've ever felt. My eyes are glowing when I open them, I can tell by the expressions on everyone faces. A ball of rippling water spins and warps, hovering in my hands. I concentrate a little harder and the ball begins to turn into ice, which causes many people to gasp. It's almost painful how good it feels to flex that elemental muscle inside myself. The ball of water almost explodes when I lock eyes with Draco. He's smiling at me in awe, like I'm the most amazing thing he's ever seen. It's not something I could ever stand to lose.

Leon talks me through a few more changes as I mould my ball into different sizes and shapes. He tells me I have great control, and that emotional responses can effect elemental ability sometimes.

When it's Draco's turn, I watch in fascination how he only has to blink to make a ball of fire flare up in his hands. His eyes flash with electricity, and a spindle of white light zaps around the black ring inside his iris.

Draco grins and the ball of fire turns blazing. I can feel the heat of it against my face even though I'm quite far away. I can't imagine what Draco must feel since he's so close to the burning ember. The fire snaps and crackles, and Draco laughs, his voice so full of joy that it makes me want to laugh too.

I have to roll my eyes though when Draco asks Leon how to throw a fire ball.

Leon seems to find that funny though, and he says,

"That actually leads us on to our next practice."

Draco goes back to join his gang of Gryffindor's, but not before sending a wink my way. His friends welcome him back with a thundering round of applause, and Ron slaps his shoulder in a show of camaraderie. Draco turns to another boy for a high five, and a sideways hug from that girl Katie.

"He's one of them, you know," Blaise says to me.

I don't look at him as I reply,

"One of what exactly?"

Blaise is smiling, I can hear it in his voice,

"A Hazard."

'Hazard', is what a lot of water wizards call fire wizards. It's well known that in turn fire wizards call water wizards 'Icicles'. Ever since he found out about it, Draco has been calling me IceBolt. He says it's my superhero sidekick name. In fact on Thursday he followed me around for a good hour through the halls proclaiming, 'Make way for IceBolt, the mighty forehead's far less mighty sidekick!' Even worse, the Weasley twins have caught onto it, and now every time they see me they shout 'IceBolt! We salute you!'. I completely blame Draco for that, and for the random people who keep trying to hug me. He won't tell me what he said to the Weasley's, but I know he was the one who started it.

"I know he's a fire wizard," I say to Blaise dryly, "I'm just  _that_  observant.".

There's laughter in Blaise's voice now when he says,

"I meant, he's  _one of them_. In fact, I think he's the new Griff Prince."

I'm not sure I even want to know if that's a real thing. I shake my head at Blaise,

"Everyone loves Draco, they always have, that's nothing new, trust me."

I look back at Blaise and he watches me for a long moment before shrugging slightly,

"If you say so, Harry."

I want to narrow my eyes at Blaise, maybe even snap at him. But I won't, because there would be no point, and it would show far too much weakness. Blaise is my friend, I can admit that, but he's still a Pureblood, and a Slytherin. They can smell weakness like blood in the water. I have enjoyed being around people who see the world similarly to me, and I'm building up the trust between Blaise and I so that I can one day ask him about Dark Magik.

I've read enough books now to know that it's a powerful source of Magik, and I've also read enough war time literature to know that it was banned after Voldemort was destroyed. From what I can tell from Magikal history books, there was a time when Birtain always had one Dark Lord and one Light Lord. They kept the balance, not just of Magik, but with the Gods and Government. They worked together to keep everything in Britain running smoothly.

But when the last Dark Lord died, and Voldemort took his place, all mayhem ensued, because he refused to work with Britain's Light Lord, Dumbledore. Things had already been going down hill anyway though from what I could tell, since it was Dumbledore himself who killed the Dark Lord Grindelwald.

After the war, the Ministry made use of Dark Magik illegal, and therefore no other Dark Lord could remain in Britain.

I find the whole thing very interesting, if a little ostentatious. Mostly I want to know if people still practice Dark Magik or not. If Slytherin's are meant to be Dark wizards, then what exactly does that mean. Are there still Dark wizards? Do they just see themselves as Dark but don't actually use Dark Magik? I feel as if I'm drowning in questions, and yet I don't think there's anyone I can trust enough to ask. That's why I want to talk with Professor Snape, since a lot of Hallucinogen borders so much on Dark Magik. I figure he must have some appreciation for it to teach the subject with such passion, however brittle that passion might be.

Leon shows us how to manipulate our element. By the end of the lesson I can spread water over the floor and turn it to ice, and still keep it moving. I could have turned the whole arena into an ice skating rink. Or used it to freeze someone's feet to the ground. I saw that Draco had officially mastered the fire ball, and was blasting it at the thick walls of the arena. The walls appear to be covered in old scorch marks from past students. The earth wizards learn how to create vines, and the air wizards seem to be having fun creating mini tornados.

It feels incredible to be able to use my elemental ability properly for the first time. I try to contain it somewhat though, not wanting to reveal just how powerful I now know I am. I'm not sure if it's supposed to feel this easy, but I'm not complaining either. I start to build a wall of water, making it rise up from the ground like a solid wave.

A loose fire ball comes right at me then, and before I can think too much about it, my hands have come up defensively and I've turned the ball of molten fire into ice. The fire is extinguished with a dramatic hiss. Everyone turns to stare at me, and I send the ball of ice back to where it came from. Students dive out of the way, and the ball of ice hits the wall. It smashes like glass, and shards of ice splinter off in random directions. There's a short pause, and then I hear Draco say,

"Ha! I knew you'd do that!"

Everbody laughs at that, and I roll my eyes. But it couldn't have been Draco who actually threw the fire ball because he's standing in the opposite direction to where it came from.

Leon calls an end to the lesson then, and he comes over to ask if I'm alright. I tell him that I am, obviously. Leon gives me a worried look, and offers his extra help if I need to 'keep myself balanced'. I'm not exactly sure what he means by that, but I'm guessing he's worried with my amount of power that I'll hurt somebody. By accident. Or on purpose.

I might just take him up on some extra sessions. If for no other reason than to covet my element.

I don't think I'm imagining the looks of fear anymore. I also don't mind it as much as I probably should. To me, fear is better than mindless adoration. Blaise and I walk back to Hogwarts together, discussing the various ramifications of my show of power during our lesson. Blaise seems to think it can only help with my reputation amongst the Slytherins. I'm not so sure about that.

Pansy comes up to walk on my other side, her expression more jubilant than I've ever seen it. She says,

"That was really impressive, Harry."

I smile a little at her in thanks,

"It was mainly instinct to be honest."

"Still, if that's what you can do by accident, just imagine what you could do if you actually tried," Blaise says.

"He's right," Pansy adds, "Your level of power is bound to get noticed."

I raise an eyebrow speculatively,

"I don't know if I want to be noticed all that much."

Both Blaise and Pansy appear to think about that for a while, and I take the chance to once again contemplate the news that someone broke into Gringotts to steal something that is very likely being hidden somewhere inside Hogwarts. I resolve to find out exactly what's going on, because I do not trust Dumbledore to know what he's doing. Not enough to be sure that nothing bad will happen as a result. I won't have Draco and Hermione be at risk. I will always protect what is mine, and they belong to me more than anyone else ever could. No matter what directions our lives take us in, the three of us will stand together.

* * *

****

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long my peoples, that ridiculaous thing called 'work' kept getting in my effing way. But this chapter is extra long and I really hope you enjoyed it. I'd love some feedback about this chapter, or just the story in general.
> 
> Please everyone feel free to ask questions about anything you don't understand and I'll try to answer as best I can. For example, for anyone who is confused about Hermione's story:
> 
> God+Witch/Wizard=Demi-God
> 
> Demi-God+Witch/Wizard=Olympian
> 
> Demi Gods-Have power over all elements. Have Cinergy and can do an array of other magikal things with the power of their minds (like elementals).
> 
> Olympians-No ability with elements. Very fast refelxes, incredibly strong and fast physically. Mental magik is very powerful in certain areas. Natural fighting ability.
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone for reading! xxx


	9. The Beastly Scandal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)

** Draco's P.O.V **

I didn't know it was possible to have an arch nemesis at the age of eleven. But I do now. I mean, I've been actively against many meat based food companies. I have sent letters to their CEO's and staged mini protests outside their establishments with the cover of going to the park. I've started groups within the community via town meetings. I'll never forget the look on Dalia's face when I forced her to take me to a PTA meeting and went on to give an hour long speech, including graphs and emotive campaign pictures, about animal rights. I believed the first step to encouraging the next generation to take up the vegetarian baton was to educate their parents.

I never knew I could genuinely dislike a person either. I've always been fairly upbeat about people, truly believing that we all have good inside us. In the past when someone made me angry, mostly by saying or doing, hurtful ignorant things, I was always able to tell myself that those people needed my understanding. They were merely products of the life they had led up until that point. I felt it was my job to help them. You can't expect people to be better or kinder or more tolerant if you aren't willing to give them the chance to be. That's what I've always believed anyway.

But now I'm pretty sure I've met someone who I will dislike for the rest of my life. His name is Weedy. I do not hate him, I am just not particularly excited about his existence.

We have flying lessons today with the Slytherins and I'm not sure if I should be excited about it or not. On the one hand, we'll get to fly, which is wicked with knobs on. But then on the other hand, I might fall off and Weedy will mock me for the rest of the year.

"I've never flown a Volant board before," I say to Ron and Katie, "What if I do something stupid or crazy?"

"' _If_ '?" Katie remarks, "Isn't doing something crazy kind of your thing?"

I give her a considering look,

"I know it may appear that way, but honestly I swear these situations just...kinda... _happen_."

Katie raises an eyebrow at me,

"You mean like when you tried to light a candle just by clicking your fingers and you ended up turning Professor Flitwick's beard to ash?"

I open my mouth to respond, but Ron adds with a grin,

"Or when Neville set his bed on fire and you tried to use the shower to put it out by breaking into the pipes?"

"Or when you made that speech from behind Dumbledore's podium during breakfast about the owls going on postal strike," Katie says, a big smile on her face.

"Or when you got into that fight with Knott about muggles and puggles, and he basically called your adoptive parents scum, so after lights out you got Harry to sneak us into the Slytherin dorms and you made Weedy have a nightmare about being a muggle," Ron says without taking a breathe.

Ok, I know that sounds mean, but in my defence...Weedy is a prat. And it was really funny.

I also had to curb Harry somehow from doing far worse things to Weedy for the things he said about Dalia and Adam. Harry was so angry, in that silent brewing thunderstorm way of his. I thought he might actually hurt Weedy for real if I didn't do something to take the edge off.

I know Weedy is now officially on Harry's 'list', which means he is doomed, along with Dumbledore, Professor Squirrell, and that ice cream van driver who dropped Harry's ice cream and then wouldn't make him a new one. We were six then. I'm pretty sure Harry still plots the ice cream man's demise. My Bolt holds a grudge. Hard.

I hold my hands up to halt Ron and Katie,

"Yes, yes, alright, I get it. A lot of weird stuff happens around me."

"I think you mean  _because_  of you," Katie says, but there's humour in her oddly coloured eyes.

"Rude," I mutter at her, lifting my head high in mock hurt.

Ron hits my shoulder and says,

"Don't worry about it mate, I know Knott goes on and on about how great he is at Xenta, but I bet that's a load of rubbish."

I shrug one shoulder at him, but don't comment. The way most children from Wizard families tell it, they're all superstars at Xenta, and master flyers. I try not to pay too much attention to it all, but I do wish I'd had at least some experience of using a Volant board before, even if I'm not amazing at flying.

I keep trying to explain football to Ron, but he just doesn't understand it. To be fair, he's been trying to explain Xenta to me, and I don't get that either. Maybe it's a culture thing. I mean, I also think football is a bit stupid, but that's for personal reasons. Mostly it's because the last time I played it with the rough boys from the estate I ended up with a broken arm. It was fun having a cast though, everyone from school signed it. I chose to have a pink cast, mainly because the Doctor said it was just for girls. Diversity is important. Respect pink!

Adam almost had a melt down at the time because he was the one who was supposed to be watching me. I think he thought Dalia would literally murder him. Some part of me thought it was a serious possibility as well. Hermione just called me an idiot for playing with boys twice my size. Harry properly lost his rag for a good hour afterwards, and I'm glad his magik was still locked inside him back then because I seriously think he might have frozen those bigger boys to death otherwise.

On the plus side, I got a lolly pop out of it. That was right after Dalia banned me from eating sweets, so, I feel like it was well worth it in the end.

Neville smiles shyly at me and says,

"I've never been on a Volant board either, Draco."

"Why not?" I ask curiously. Nev grew up in a Wizard family, so I'd assumed he'd been on one at least once.

Neville blushes slightly and replies,

"My aunt wouldn't let me."

"So, your aunt is ok with you being dropped out of a window, but not ok with you flying?" I ask slowly, trying to get my head around something that sounds so ridiculous to me.

"The window thing helped me with my magik, flying would just be pointlessly putting myself in danger. Or, that's what my aunt says," Neville explains, and he starts fiddling with his sleeve nervously.

I open my mouth to speak, and then close it again. I was about to say that Neville's family have a whacked up sense of priority. But I figure that would only make Neville feel uncomfortable, and anyway, it's not my place to judge anyone's family.

I give Neville a big smile and nod,

"Fair enough, Nev. But we'll both get the chance now, so, we can help each other out. Ok?"

Neville keeps fiddling for a moment, and then looks at me with a grateful expression his face,

"Yeah, ok, thanks Draco."

I honestly don't know if Harry is excited about flying, or apprehensive enough about it to be nervous. He's been so closed off lately, even more so than usual. It makes me sad, but I also don't know what to do about it. Maybe this is just how things are meant to be.

Katie is definitely not feeling great about flying. She's done it before, but only the once, and she says once was enough for her.

"You could always fake a sick note," I say whilst digging into my breakfast of coco pops mixed with wheaties mixed with porridge. Sounds nasty? Tastes amazing, trust me.

Katie turns around, having obviously not heard what I said, and asks,

"What?"

I have a mouthful of Pweaco, as I call it, so Ron answers for me,

"You could fake being sick."

Katie's eyes widen and she says,

"No way! I can't do that."

I raise an eyebrow at her and Ron asks,

"Why not?"

Katie crosses her arms and gives him a harsh look,

"Because that would be lying, and lying is wrong, especially to teachers."

A bubble of laughter threatens to come bursting out of me at the stern expression on Katie's face and the bewildered one on Ron's. I slap Ron's head lightly and say in mock admonishment,

"Yeah Ron, God, I can't believe you would say something like that," I shake my head at him, and say to Katie, "I don't know if we can be friends with someone who would do something so  _heinous_ ," then just for effect I add, "maybe he should be in Slytherin."

Ron gasps in horror, his brown eyes blown wide,

"You take that back right  _now_."

Katie and I start laughing at the genuine ire on Ron's face at even the thought of being somewhat Slytherin. Ron grumbles at us after a while of us laughing hysterically that it's not that funny. When I've finally calmed down some, I grin apologetically at Ron and say,

"Come on, as if you'd ever be anything but a complete Gryffindor."

Ron nods proudly,

"Too right."

I shake my head and go back to my breakfast for a while, until I'm distracted again by the post. Ying comes soaring down onto the Gryffindor table before any of the other owls have even entered the hall. She gives me a smug chirp and I feed her some leftover snacks. Yang is next, and she lands next to Harry with a more graceful swoop. Ying and Yang hoot at each other from across the room, and I realise what the whole speedy entry was really about. Competitive little owls.

I open the letter that Ying brought for me, and smile down at the contents.

_Dear Draco,_

_We miss you so much, and can hardly wait to see you, Hermione and Harry at Christmas. Not much has happened since your last letter, although the wedding plans are coming together quite nicely, thank you for asking. A Christmas wedding is turning out to be one of our better ideas. We hope you're having a lovely time, and that you are behaving, if that's even possible. Please try to stay out of trouble, for my sake, sweat heart. Adam says he wants to know more about the 'singing hat'? I'm not sure what you wrote to him in that separate letter, because he won't show me, he says it's secret 'father-son' stuff_. (I can almost imagine Dalia rolling her eyes even as she writes that, and Adam hiding my letter to him just to tease Dalia.)  _I would love to know more about how you're doing in Dreamscaping class, it sounds like your professor is very impressed, and Adam and I are incredibly proud of you. If you have any problems though, please ask the school to contact us, just because we're far away doesn't mean we can't help you._

_I love you Draco_

_Miss you and love you too, son. (_ Adam writes in his scrawly handwriting _.)_

_Mum and Dad xxx_

I'm smiling so wide that it hurts, and pit of homesickness floods through me, making my eyes sting. I miss my parents, and I miss being at home with them. I'm really enjoying school, but I'm also really looking forward to the Christmas break as well. I look up to see Harry walking purposefully out of the hall, letter in hand. I almost roll my eyes. Harry would never open a potentially emotional letter in front of people.

Neville bring me out of my head when he opens a package from his aunt and leans over to show it to me excitedly. I frown at the small glass ball in his hand, it's about the side of a tennis ball, but see through and seemingly hollow.

"What is it?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"It's a Cinorb!" Neville says, practically bouncing in his seat.

A Cinwhat now?

"My aunt knows I lose things all the time. A Cinorb can be used kind of like pathfinding, but in a easier way," Neville explains to me when he see's the obvious confusion on my face.

"Wow, that's really cool, can I take a look?" I peer at the ball, wondering how exactly it works.

Neville smiles happily at me and holds out the Cinorb for me to take. But before I can even touch it, a hand whips out from over our shoulders and snatches it away from Neville's grasp.

I jump up when I see who took it, and Ron isn't far behind me. Knott smirks at us in that really annoying Weedy way of his.

"Give that back," I demand angrily.

Weedy pretends to think about it and says,

"Um...nope, I don't think I will,  _Black_." He spits out my name like a curse.

I ball my hands into fists and glare openly at Weedy,

"Don't be a prat, just give Neville back his Cinorb."

"Or what?" Weedy goads with another smirk.

I grit my teeth,

"I'm not playing this stupid game with you, Knott. Just give it back."

Weedy sniffs haughtily at me,

"Your bodyguard isn't around to protect you this time, Black, so back off."

I take an angry step toward him, wanting so badly to plant my fist in his pinched up face. Ron is pretty much vibrating with anger beside me, and I know he'd probably be up for a fight as well. But then I realise what Weedy just said, and I pause. I realise suddenly that Weedy waited until Harry left until he came over here. In fact, now that I think about it, Weedy never does anything but give me nasty looks when Harry is around.

Conclusion: Weedy is scared of Harry.

That's not exactly surprising, a lot of people seem kind of frightened of him, and I know from experience that Harry can be a scary person when he wants to be. But for some reason it irks me that Weedy thinks it's ok to be mean when I'm on my own. All my life, or at least ever since I can remember, people have treated me in a certain way because of Harry's over-protective streak. I don't want people to be afraid to disagree with me just because they fear what Harry might do to them. But it's something I've come to accept over the years because, really, there's not much I can do about. I guess it's just the price of being loved by Harry Potter. To be fair to Harry, he puts up with all my madness, so it's only right that I put up with his.

I still don't like it though. And Weedy is still a prat.

"Give me the Cinorb, Knott, or I'll show you exactly how much I don't need a bodyguard," I say quietly, my eyes fixed on Weedy's, determined to stare him down.

Our stare-off lasts all the way until Professor McGonagall sniffs out trouble, as she's prone to do.

"What's going on?" she asks.

"Knott took Neville's Cinorb," Ron says.

Knott finally breaks eye contact with me and glowers at us all before dropping the Cinorb into Neville's lap.

"I was just having a look at it," Knott says innocently.

"Just looking my arse," I mutter darkly.

Knott saunters away with Boil and Scab at his back. Ha, I'm not the one with a bodyguard.

Professor McGonagall walks on past us, only sending one stern look our way. Ron starts grumbling about how much of a prat Weedy is, and most of the frist year Gryffindor's make sounds of agreement.

** Harry's P.O.V **

We make our way down to the grounds for our first flying lesson. I'd never admit this to anyone, but I'm truly excited, and not like I was when we were using our elemental abilities. Part of the excitement for that was because it would be very useful later. The excitement I feel right now about the thought of flying is a completely different kind of excitement. It's a childish notion, but the idea of being able to fly is something I've always dreamed of doing. I don't know why it feels so important, but it does.

We arrive before the Gryffindor's and I'm glad for that. It gives me a moment to prepare for a few hours of having to ignore the nagging fear I feel for Draco. I mean, Draco. Flying. In the air. What could possibly go wrong? Answer:  _Everything_. I don't like the idea of it one little bit. Ever since I found out he would be learning to fly at the same time as me, I've been having visions of him falling to his death from fifty feet in the air. What if someone knocks him off? What if the wind is too strong? What if Draco does something Dracoish like flying upside down? Is that even possible with a Volant board? I'm honestly not sure, but if anyone could find a way to do it, then that person would be Draco. I'm glad I don't have to worry about Hermione flying. Apparently Olympians can learn if they want to, but Hermione opted out. I can only ever be grateful that my sister in all but blood has more sense than her two brothers.

Once the Gryffindor's do actually show up, we are told by Madam Hooch to stand next to a board each. The Volant boards are shaped almost like thin ovals and are all made of what looks like some kind of white mental. I look over at Draco just in time to see Ron lean over and whisper something in his ear. Draco nods back at his friend, smiling broadly as always, and whispers something in reply. Ron suddenly bursts out laughing and then tries desperately to contain it. Draco meets my eyes for a second, and he mouths at me,

_"I won't fall."_

I mouth back,

_"You could."_

Draco shakes his head and replies silently,

_"Maybe. But even if I do, I won't be hurt."_

I almost think I've read him wrong, which is very rare. We've been learning to communicate this way ever since we met.

_"Why not?"_

Draco smiles ruefully, and replies,

_"Because you'll catch me of course."_

I want to snort indignantly at his blatant attempt to manipulate me. But the sweet smile on his face, and the real anxiety in his eyes, wins me over.

My attention is pulled back to the present when Madam Hooch, an ageing woman with sharp clever eyes and grey hair, barks authoritvely,

"Stand on your board and place your feet evenly apart, make sure you have a good position."

We all move quickly to do just that. I step onto the board carefully, and find that it is far more sturdy than I originally imagined. When everyone is standing on a board, Madam Hooch continues,

"Now, once you feel comfortable, connect with your element and allow that feeling of acceptance to flow through your body, your board should do the rest."

I raise an eyebrow speculatively, unsure of exactly what to expect. Blaise, being a pureblood, has ridden a Volant board before. He told me vaguely about what happens, but never in much detail. I get the impression that Xenta is more a game to be watched by pureblood's and played by half-blood's and muggle-borns.

I let the ball of elemental power in my core unravel slightly, careful to keep it under complete control. My element runs through my body like icey water, turning me into a cold-blooded creature. I almost show my surprise when the metal of the Volant board begins to liquefy slightly beneath my feet. I watch in fascination as the now liquid metal rises up and covers my boots. I can feel it as the metal becomes solid again, now trapping my feet. I am attached to the board. I look around to see that the same thing is happening for a few other people. Others take longer, but it happens for all of us eventually. I see Draco attempt to move closer to a boy named Neville. The round faced Gryffindor looks positively terrified, and his expression says all too clearly that he would rather not do any kind of airborne activity. I watch as Draco whispers to Neville in what I'm sure is a soothing tone, he even reaches over and places a hand on the other boy's shoulder. Neville slowly begins to relax with every word Draco says. When Neville finally nods and pulls himself up a little straighter, Draco backs away a little.

Madam Hooch starts inspecting our feet, making a few comments about concentration and grip. After a few minutes she is satisfied that we are all securely attached to our boards, she says,

"Right then, on three I want you all to give your element  _one_  instruction, ' _Rise_ '. Your boards will be passed the instruction and then you will be elevated. Once you have risen a few inches, I want you to tell your element ' _Stop_ '. Ok, one, two-"

Before Madam Hooch can finish, Neville lets out a yelp as his board begins to move upwards. Fast. Draco's face goes instantly fierce and he almost seems to kick off the ground, rising with more force than his friend. I watch in abject horror as Draco rises a good 15 feet before being able to grab onto Neville, just in time too, because a moment later the Volant board practically melts away from his feet and falls to the ground with a loud thud. Neville all but screams as he clings frantically onto Draco. That's when my brain kicks into protective mode, and my own elemental power almost recoils at the vehemence as I snap 'Rise' at it.

It takes less than a few seconds to reach a struggling Draco and a squirming Neville. I grab hold of Neville's other arm, and together we manage to shift him, and ourselves, back onto the ground. Draco steps off of his board easily enough, and so do I, it takes a lot less effort to get the board to let go than it does to get it to hold on. Neville is crumpled on the floor, and Draco immedietly goes to try and comfort him. I don't let him get that far.

Draco jumps in surprise when I take hold of his arm in a firm grip. I keep my voice quiet, mindful of our audience, but also harsh when I say to him,

"Are you an idiot?"

Draco frowns at me,

"What? No, I'm sorry Bolt, but I had to help him, I didn't have a choice-"

"Yes you did. You always do. But no, Draco Black just has to risk his neck to save someone," I know how scornful my tone is, and I don't care. I don't care if I'm being unreasonable, and I don't care if saving Neville was the right thing to do.

Draco tries to pull his arm away, but I hold on tight. He narrow those strange eyes of his at me,

"That's not fair."

"Neither is me having to watch you do dangerous things just because you can," I reply calmly. I know he hates it when I'm cool with him whilst we argue.

"Neville is my friend, and he could have been hurt-"

" _You_  could have been hurt!"

"But I'm fine," Draco says in exasperation.

"Only because I helped you," I snap at him.

Draco's hackles go up full force and he says stiffly,

"You don't know that. I was fine, I can look after myself."

"Well clearly you can't if flying off into the air without even thinking is what you call 'looking after yourself'."

"You did it too!" Draco argues angrily.

"Only to save you!"

"I don't need you to save me!"

"Then prove it by not doing stupid things all the time," I hiss at him. God, he's frustrating.

We stare at each other for a few very long moments, neither of us saying anything. Our eyes are locked in challenge. Eventually I whisper a bit more gently,

"You have no idea what it would do to me if you got hurt, Dragon."

Draco's eyes soften ever so slightly, but before he can reply, Madam Hooch is there, helping Neville to his feet. Draco's attention is instantly diverted when Neville makes a whinging hurt sound. He then proceeds to throw up onto the grass. The smell of bile reaches my nose, and I step away in distaste. Draco on the other hand goes into soothing mode. He was always the one who looked after us when we got sick, even Dalia and Adam.

Madam Hooch says firmly to all of us,

"All of you stay here whilst I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing. No flying, or you'll have a year's worth of detention."

Draco goes along with Neville and Madam Hooch.

I pick up my Volant board, which is a lot lighter than I thought, and re-claim my position next to Blaise. Everyone is staring at me. Fantastic.

Blaise leans in and whispers,

"That was really...something."

I'm not sure what to make of his comment at first, but then I think I understand,

"My fight with Draco or my first flying attempt?"

"Both." Blaise replies with a slight smirk, "He's the only person you act that way around. People have noticed."

People? What people?

But all I say is,

"Right."

I really don't want everyone to think of Draco as my weak point, even though he sort of is. I don't think Draco would appreciate it either. Maybe I should pull away a bit, give Draco some room to breathe. Maybe that would be best for both of us.

** Hermione's P.O.V **

"Where's Drake?" I ask Harry when he shows up at our usual after lights out meeting place.

Harry makes a noncommital sound and says,

"I'm giving him space."

I know that's Harry code for: we had a fight.

"What was it about this time?" I ask with a weary sigh.

I'm so tired today, after so many hours of training harder than I thought my body capable of, I can barely keep my eyes open. Kit's been a great training partner though, and I believe that he's fast becoming a very good friend.

Harry gives me a raised eyebrow, but I wait him out. He'll either tell me or he won't. I can find out from Draco tomorrow anyway.

Finally though Harry's shoulders slump a little bit and he says with a frustrated sigh,

"Draco did something dangerous, and I got angry with him. That's all."

I can tell that its more complicated than he's telling me, but I refuse to beg for information. Obviously whatever's bothering Harry has been on his mind all day, maybe longer, and that usually means he's undecided on what the best course of action should be for resolving it. Far be it from me to make that decision for him.

Harry changes the subject then, as I knew he would.

"How's training going?" he asks casually. His voice holds no affliction or gleam of emotion from before, and I marvel once again at what a skilled liar he truly is. It both worries and fascinates me.

I make a face and shrug,

"Not bad I suppose. Mostly I just feel terrible for not being able to be honest with Dalia and Adam. Their letter made me wish they were here. Or that I was at home." It makes me feel weak to admit this, but it's true and if there's one person in the world I can trust not to make fun of me then that's Harry. As much as I like Kit, and he really is a very nice person, I don't think I'll ever be able to confide in him the way I do Harry.

I miss Dalia and Adam, two people who have been there for me in ways that no other adults could ever be. I couldn't love them any more even if they were my own parents. Jury's still out on who my biological parents are by the way, Eos is being suspiciously closed lipped about it. I'm not sure if she knows, or just thinks she knows. It makes me want to break all my personal rules and just read her mind. But I won't, because that isn't who I am. I don't need to know who my parents were. I had two amazing parents in the Grangers, and now I have Dalia and Adam. That's more than enough for me.

Harry frowns ever so slightly,

"It makes me angry that they can dictate such a thing to you, HG. Are you sure you don't want me to-"

I cut him off,

"No, we've discussed this before. I want to sort this out on my own. It's important to me, HP. Please try to understand that."

There's a long pause, and Harry's face is stony and unemotional, but then I'm used to that. Eventually though he looks me dead in the eye and says,

"I do understand. More than you know."

He and I stare at each other for what feels like a long time, but could have only logically been a few seconds. We both decide, without actually saying a word, to leave that conversation in the 'to be continued at a later date' file.

"We should get going," I say, feeling both wary and, if I'm being honest, a little excited. Harry nods in agreement and we set off.

Tonight is the night when Harry and I decided to check out the forbidden third floor corridor. Actually, it's probably a good thing Draco isn't here because at least now we can be sure no one will be throwing themselves into danger. I'm in enough of a bind as it is with all the Godly crap, and Harry is...well...lets just say we both have a healthy understanding of self preservation. Draco on the other hand wouldn't know self preservation if it came up and smacked him upside the face and introduced itself via musical number.

It's surprising how easy it is to sneak out, although I think that's mainly down to Harry and I being so careful. After that first night here, we made sure to know all the corridors and passageways by heart. So it doesn't take us long to get to the forbidden corridor.

There's an ordinary looking door blocking our entry, which is strange within itself because everything else at Hogwarts is so lavish and beautiful. If they were going for 'unremarkable' they both hit and missed with this one. The door appears to be made of grey metal, with no carvings or symbols on it like every other door in this school. It is also locked. Again, a locked door, not exactly discreet. But then, they did announce that the third floor was forbidden, 'secrecy' doesn't seem to be their main priority.

"Can you unlock it HP?" I ask Harry after a few seconds of speculation.

Harry tilts his head to the side, considering the locked door. Then he smiles gravely and says,

"It seems pretty complex, from what I can feel." Harry already seems to be concentrating hard on the lock, his hand extended only inches away from it. He's using his telekinetic ability to fiddle with the inside of the lock. It's a very difficult thing to accomplish, and only people who are very good at telekinesis can actually do things like that. I know that from the books I've read. Telekinesis is still my worst subject even with the added boost of Gold-like power.

After a few tense minutes, something finally makes a clicking sound from within the door and Harry's body relaxes. He doesn't seem happy though.

"Did you unlock it?" I ask.

Harry nods tensely,

"Yes, I've flipped the inner lock. But it's stuck with something else."

"Magik?" I frown at the door.

Harry shakes his head,

"No, more like...cement maybe."

"Cement? Why would they seal the door with cement? How would they get in or out?"

"Who says they need to get in or out?" Harry says wryly, "Besides, I'm not saying it actually is cement, only that that's what it seems like. It could be anything."

"Ah, I'm pretty sure we can rule out super glue, blue tack or bubble gum," I say in a dry tone.

Harry smirks at me,

"Says you. Maybe Professor Dumbledore likes some good old Hubba Bubba."

I roll my eyes and snort out a laugh.

"Stand out of the way," I tell Harry, who gives me a curious look.

"Why?" he asks.

"Because I'm about to do something really manly, and I don't want to hurt your dainty Slytherin self."

Harry rolls his emerald eyes at me, although they do flash with humour. He obediently steps out of the way and gestures at the door,

"Go ahead, shock me with your brutish strength, oh great warrior woman."

I narrow my eyes at Harry, who merely raises a dark eyebrow in response as if to say 'impress me'.

"You are so annoying, no wonder Draco is angry with you," I declare.

Harry's jaw tightens, and I realise that was the wrong thing to say. Like, really, the wrong thing.

"I'm worried about him," Harry almost whispers.

"We both worry, HP, so do Dalia and Adam. But you can't treat him like a lost baby bird who just happens to amuse you forever."

Harry says a little bit defensively,

"I don't treat him like a baby bird."

I sigh and rub the space between my eyebrows, a headache threatening,

"Yes you do, and you know it. There was nothing wrong with that when we were in the muggle world, but we aren't anymore. Draco is making his own friends-"

"He's always had his own friends," Harry interrupts, but I know it's only because he doesn't want to hear the truth in my words.

I regard Harry sadly for a moment,

"Yes, but this is different. He's forming real bonds with people here. He's living his own life, wanting to make his own choices, and you can't keep holding onto his wings in a desperate attempt to stop him from ever flying away." Ok, I admit that last part was a bit secretin, but my point still stands.

Harry is silent, and as close to brooding as I've ever seen him before. His green eyes have gone impossibly dark, somehow, but he appears to be thinking about what I've said very seriously. Well good, about time he listened to me.

He looks at me suddenly and says,

"Bird analogy aside, I understand what you're saying. I knew one day I'd have to let him go, but ever since I found him in our garden by that tree, lost and alone, I've felt...drawn to him. I just want to protect him from...everything."

I shake my head at Harry and say,

"You shouldn't put all that on yourself. You aren't his Guardian Angel, HP, you're his...his..." Jesus, what in the world do I call them? Friends? The very thought is laughable. Brothers? Maybe, but it still doesn't ring quite true.

"I am  _his_. I'm whatever he needs me to be," Harry finishes with a surprisingly self-deprecating curl of his lips.

There isn't really much to say to that. Not this early on in the game anyway.

I turn back to the door, letting the tense silence between Harry and I slowly dissipate. Harry takes the reins, as usual, and says in a flatter, more normal voice,

"Come on then, HG, show me what you got."

I roll my shoulders back and take a few more steps away from the door. I want to give myself a clear shot. We may only have one chance. If it makes too much noise, Harry and I might need to run, and then we'd need to wait at least a week before trying again.

I think about all the training I've been subjected to, especially the few fighting moves we've been taught inside what Kit calls  _'the cage'_. It's not actually a cage, obviously, but a boxers ring. Kit does have a taste for being overly dramatic. He makes me laugh though.

I put all the force and strength I can muster into the flying kick as I throw myself in one semi-graceful movement at the door.

I think both Harry and I are equally as surprised when the door actually gives way beneath my foot. Harry's there in an instant to grab the rather large handle so that it won't bang quite as loudly when it swings open. He manages to grasp it, although the force of the door opening all but drags him over the threshold. It turns out what's beyond the door is another one of those bloody black hole portals. I quickly follow after Harry and we both tumble together into the darkness.

I feel the horrid snapping of lightening strum through my body, just like last time. I really do hate it.

We land together in a lump on what feels like a concrete floor. I figure there must be a way to land on your feet, because that really hurt. Harry is the first one to get up, and he offers me a hand. I start grumbling about not-so-secret passage rooms and their bloody black holes, when suddenly Harry hisses at me to be quiet.

I give him a harsh look and hiss back,

"Why?"

Harry doesn't say anything, he just points.

Uh oh.

Maybe we should have brought Draco after all. Nah, he's have wanted to pet it or something insane like that.

Standing before us is a massive, and I mean whopping ginormous, black three headed dog.

The big dog stares at us in surprise, and we stare right on back. Although the dog seems to be shaking off it's initial shock at our existence. I think we are about to be eaten. Three drooling mouths open, revealing about a billion yellow fangs. Brilliant. Perfect for chewing on our teeny tiny bones. I hope they choke on my elbow.

One of the dog heads start growling. Fear makes my heart race like mad, and I nearly jump six feet in the air when Harry gestures at the dogs' feet. I almost snap at him that it's not the feet we should be concentrating on. But when I see that the dogs' are standing on a trap door, I pause and stare. Of course my attention is back on the snarling jaws of the beast when it moves closer to us.

Harry grasps my arm in a firm grip and pulls me back. I watch as Harry very, very slowly manoeuvres us backwards towards what looks like the other side of the portal. The dogs are still growling, but they haven't yet made a move to attack us. God knows why.

When our luck finally runs out and one of the dog heads comes snapping towards us, Harry is there in a flash. The dog yelps, his jaws coming within inches of my arm, when a blade of ice slashes it's nose. Harry strikes out with the blade only once, but that's enough. A big droplet of blood splashes onto the floor, and I jump away from it. Harry yanks on my arm and then we're running and throwing ourselves through the portal, the snap of fangs at our feet.

He and I are breathing hard when we are spat out of the portal this time. But Harry doesn't give either of us time to think, as he scrambles to his feet, closes the door, and pulls me to my feet once again. We both run like hell down the marble staircase, away from the door and the portal and the beast. Harry's still holding the bloody ice blade, and I tell him to get rid of it. With a flick of his wrist the blade dissolves into Harry's skin once more.

"I want to say that's amazing, but the word creepy comes to mind first," I gasp at Harry when we finally stop somewhere sort of safe. It's a hidden corner that no one else would notice if they walked past it.

"Sure, insult the power that just saved your arm from being ripped off. That's nice." Harry says in somewhat amused exasperation.

"There's...there's a three headed dog...in a  _school_!" I exclaim probably too loudly.

"Yeah, I noticed," Harry mutters dispassionately.

"Are we going straight to Dumbledore or...not?" I ask Harry, willing to take his lead.

Harry shakes his head mutely,

"No, he obviously already knows it's here, so he must think it's an ok thing to do. Putting a giant monster dog in a school with innocent children to conceal an object that three of his students quite clearly know about. Yeah, I can imagine how much brainstorming went into that plan." Harry sounds scornful, and he has a right to. What kind of idiot does something so irresponsible? Respected famous light Lord or not, Dumebledore is clearly mental.

"Then what's the plan?" I ask warily.

Harry appears to consider the question for a while, and then says,

"We find out what the hell that dog was trying to guard, for one thing."

I agree eagerly, despite tonight's insane events, I'm more than interested in knowing what could be so important that it needs guarding from a three headed dog. Harry and I talk for a while throwing out ideas, and discarding them one at a time. When it starts to get light outside, we part ways reluctantly and head back to our respective dorms. When I'm creeping through the dorm lounge, a voice from one of the sofa's near the fire, says,

"Well, hello early riser...or should that be late nighter?"

Damn. I turn to Kit in shock, and sigh heavily. He's smiling at me in a weirdly knowing way.

"So then, what have you been up to?"

"Things." I reply shortly.

"Care to elaborate for me?" Kit asks, getting up from his chair and moving over to stand at my side.

"Not really."

"That's a shame."

"I suppose it is."

"Would you feel any more inclined to tell me if I told you why I'm up so early?"

I eye him carefully. Kit is still smiling, like he doesn't have a care in the world. I know that's not true. He actually has a lot of trouble with his over controlling Auror father and flighty mother, but he pulls off the carefree act rather well.

I have to ask myself, can I really trust Kit with this? Harry would say no, but then, he would say no about anyone he hasn't known for at least five years. And even then he'd probably say to only give half the facts. But Kit is my friend, and he's never given me any reason to doubt him.

"Alright, you go first."

Kit looks both delighted and sceptical, but he says,

"I was on the phone with my Dad. My Uncle's been arrested again."

"Your phone, I thought we weren't allowed phones?" I ask.

Kit shrugs,

"We aren't, but then again we aren't allowed to sneak out after lights out either," he gestures at me.

I tilt my head,

"Fair enough. Why did your Dad need to speak to you so urgently about your uncle being arrested, is he ok?"

Kit makes a dismissive noise and waves his hand,

"My Uncle's fine, unfortunately," he mutters, "My Dad was actually phoning me to say that I need to look out for my cousin, because things are getting bad at home."

"Your cousin is at Hogwarts?" I'm a little confused, Kit never mentioned a cousin.

Kit smiles ruefully,

"Yeah, well, it's kinda complicated."

"Can you tell me who it is?" I ask, not wanting to push too much.

Kit grimaces, and then lets out a long breathe.

"I suppose so. It's not exactly a secret or anything...his name is Blaise."

My eyes widen and I ask,

"As in Blaise the pureblood Slytherin?"

Kit nods,

"That is his formal title, yes."

I hit Kit's arm,

"Shut up, you know what I mean."

Kit's expression darkens somewhat, and all I can think is that it doesn't suit his face at all. I look more closely, trying to find the resemblance between Kit and Blaise.

It's true that they both have dark skin and a carefully sculpted looking nose and high cheek bones. But apart from that I wouldn't ever put them together as closely related. Kit has whiskey coloured eyes and a kind open face. His hair is chestnut brown and cut short in the back and left long in the front. Altogether it gives him a boyish air that draws me in automatically.

"Blaise took his mother's name, but his father and mine are brothers."

"Your father's pureblood?" I ask, trying to sound curious without being out and out nosy.

"Yeah, he is. Head Auror Jace Thorne. The Thorne's are a pretty old family, almost as old as the Black's and the Malfoy's."

"The Malfoy's? I haven't heard that name," I frown, trying to think if I've read about them in my studies. Harry might know, he's been more involved in the pureblood side of things.

Kit gives me a strange look,

"Is it true then, about Draco?"

That definitely startles me, what does Draco have to do with anything?

"Is what true about Draco?"

Kit's eyebrows rise, and he suddenly seems a bit wary,

"Do you really not know about the scandal, it was big news, even outside pureblood circles."

I huff a little at him,

"Of course I don't. I didn't even know any of this existed a few months ago. What scandal?"

Kit cringes, and I see quite clearly that he doesn't want to tell me, which just makes me even more invested in hearing what he has to say.

Kit finally, after a lot of staring, tells me,

"Apparently, Narcissa Malfoy had an affair with another death eater during the first war. Her husband, Lucius Malfoy, was also a death eater, he was sent to Askaban after the war. Narcissa Malfoy had a child, and rumour is that the baby isn't a Malfoy, but the child of Narcissa's unknown dark lover."

I get a really bad feeling in my chest,

"Ok, but what does that have to do with Draco?"

Kit starts fiddling with his own fingers, looking really uncomfortable.

"Well...the thing is...Narcissa Malfoy was once Narcissa Black..."

Yeah, that bad feeling is getting worse.

"And?" I prompt him, wanting so badly to be wrong.

Kit meets my eyes,

"Narcissa Malfoy sent her son away, no one knows why...and...she...killed herself."

That's  _terrible,_  oh, what am I going to tell Draco? Should I tell him?

"This Narcissa woman, was she definitely...Draco's..."

"Mum? Yeah, that's one of the reasons why everyone's going crazy over Draco. He's the lost Black heir. I'm really surprised it hasn't been in the papers yet, but it's only a matter of time. Especially when they find out where he's been all these years...you know...with Harry  _Potter_ , of all people. I mean, Draco's parents worked for Voldemort."

I don't know what to say. This is all so complicated. I'll have to tell Draco...and Harry. If it's inevitably going to be in the papers then they'll need to know beforehand.

Draco has always made it clear that he doesn't care who his biological parents were, but this could change things. It could potentially change everything.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, maybe I shouldn't have said anything." Kit mumbles, and he seems genuinely upset with himself.

I allow my shoulders to slump, and I say to Kit,

"No, it would have come out eventually. At least this way I can make sure Draco is somewhat prepared."

Can you ever really be prepared though? For something so awful? No, I don't think so. To be honest I'm more worried about Harry than I am Draco. Draco will be ok, he'll bounce back, because that's who he is. Strong. Maybe stronger than Harry and I combined.

But Harry? How will he react to knowing that Draco's parents served the man who murdered his own parents? Not well, I suspect.

I wish I could speak to Dalia, she'd know what to do. Hold on, actually,

"Kit, can I please borrow your phone to call my Mu-Gaurdian?"

Kit looks relieved,

"Yeah, of course. But first you gotta tell me what you were doing with...either Harry or Draco...or both."

I hesitate again, but, I can't exactly force him to tell me all that information, use his phone, and NOT tell him about the dog. I pull Kit over to the sofa, and tell him briefly about everything: the goblins, the package, the third floor beast, the trap door.

By the end of it all, Kit looks...flabbergasted. Yeah, that's about the only word that fits.

"Completely mental," Kit murmurs to himself, "A giant black dog with three heads guarding a secret door? Mad. We have to find out what that package is!"

Uh oh, I think Harry and I have accidentally picked up a new member for our mystery.

"Alright, you could help, but...I need to talk to Harry about it first," I tell Kit.

He gives me another knowing smile,

"Ah, ok, gotta get Boss to approve me before I can join. I getcha."

I roll my eyes at him,

"Don't be stupid, Harry just...doesn't trust easily."

"And you're on his side?"

"Always," I reply firmly.

"What if you disagree?" Kit asks, sounding curious, although I don't know what about.

"Then we personally disagree. But when it comes to everyone else we always put on a united front."

"Um, why?" Kit seems to be studying my face.

I narrow my eyes at Kit,

"Because we are more than just friends, we're family. You stick by family, no matter what."

"Woah, you just sounded like my Dad, thanks for that flashback," Kit teases.

I ignore the jibe and hold out my hand,

"Phone please?"

Kit hands it over without a fuss, or any idiotic jokes. For once.

I quickly dial our home phone number, hoping Dalia and Adam won't sleep through it ringing. I count the rings. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven-

"Hello," I hear Dalia's confused voice over the phone, and my heart sings with relief. Homesickness floods me.

"Dalia, it's me, Hermione-"

"Hermione! Oh, honey, what's wrong? Are you alright?" Dalia sounds awake and frantic within the space of two heartbeats.

"I'm fine, seriously. Don't panic, everything's ok." I try to reassure her.

I hear Adam in the background say something like "If it's that bloody wedding planner again, then tell him to bugger off, I only meant to stroke that dove once, I swear."

Dalia must take the phone away from her face a bit, because her voice sounds far away when she replies to Adam, "You set one hundred dove's free, they had to call animal control."

I hear Adam reply, "Animal control said it was very noble of me to take the blame, but that it was obviously Draco's handiwork."

Dalia says to me, amusement heavy in her tone,

"When Adam told them that Draco is away at school, they started saying things about apples not falling far from trees, and oh now they know where Draco gets it from."

Yep, I officially miss home.

"There's something I need to talk to you about," I tell Dalia seriously.

Delia's voice is immediately sober again when she says,

"You can tell me anything, sweet heart, what's going on?"

I spend the next hour talking things through with Dalia and Adam. It feels good to have their support. I think Harry, Draco and I can survive anything as long as we have Dalia and Adam in our corner.

I'm starting to get the impression that we'll need all the help we can get to survive what is yet to come.

* * *

_Come Little Children_   
_I'll Take Thee Away,_   
_Into A Land Of_   
_Enchantment_

_Follow Sweet Children_   
_I'll Show Thee The Way_   
_Through All The Pain And_   
_The Sorrows_

_Weep Not Poor Children_   
_For Life Is This Way_   
_Murdering Beauty_   
_And Passion_

* * *

Draco wakes up suddenly, a cold sweat already breaking out, his heart is racing painfully in his chest.

It's that dream again. That voice. That haunting song. Every night for the last week. Calling to him. Whispering. Wanting. Yearning.

In the morning a child is missing. Padma Patil. Gone. Taken. Snatched.

_The song is the key._

**Mirror mirror on the wall, steal my soul and make it whole.**


	10. Tears of Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)

** Draco's P.O.V **

There are three headlines in the daily profit. Three headlines that have changed everything.

**Girl missing: Hogwarts student disappears!**

**Dark lovers' scandal prodigy!**

**Harry Potter: Saviour of the Light or future Dark Lord?**

"Oh my _Gods_ , have you seen what Rita Skeeter is saying about you in here?" Katie says, her voice shrill and angry. She's reading one of the many, many, MANY articles about me in one of the newspapers.

Or I should say she's reading one of the many articles that are about the _'Lost Black heir'_ and the ' _Youngest British dragon Lord'_ and the ' _Dark lovers' bastard'_.

I'm particularly fond of the way they keep describing me as 'enigmatic' and 'mysterious'. It sounds kinda flattering really, but as Hermione pointed out, what they really mean is that I'm not to be trusted. They're basically calling me a charming liar. Rude.

It's a pretty impressive leap considering none of the people writing these stories have ever met me.

I make a face at Katie and wave her concern away,

"I don't want to know."

And I really don't.

I keep trying to catch Harry's eye from across the hall, but he won't look at me. Then again he hasn't spoken to me or even acknowledged my existence since the Volant board incident. I don't know why but ever since then he's been giving me nothing to work with. It's like trying to talk to a stone.

Or a particularly stubborn pebble.

Ok, I suppose some of that's a lie. Not the angry silent pebble bit, the other part. I do know why he's refusing to talk to me. Well, at least I think I do. Harry's so damn hard to read though. I didn't think all these articles about my biological parents, and the war, and the part both our birth families played in that war, would matter that much to Harry.

I mean, I know he cares more about his biological parents than he'll ever admit, but he's so rational most of the time. He must know that me being the child of two supporters of Voldemort doesn't make me a different person. Harry has to know that I'm nothing but loyal to him. He has to know that I would never betray him, or choose power over our family.

He has to know he can trust me, even if no one else can.

Hermione just tells me to give him time and space. But that's ok for her, because that's the kind of relationship she and Harry have. They know when the other person wants to be alone, and they respect that fact.

Harry and I have always been more than that. We break through every barrier and stand together no matter what. In the past, even when I knew Harry wanted to be alone, I stayed close to him anyway, and Harry would let me because he needed it. He needed me. For us, being together mattered more than anything.

But now it seems the game has changed, and so have the rules between us.

I honestly hate it. But there's nothing much I can do unless I stalk him every moment of every day. I would be willing to do that actually. If we were at home then that's exactly what I would do.

Things are different at Hogwarts though and I know that.

There have been some pretty mental articles about Harry too. In fact there have been even more articles about him than there have been about me, which is really saying something. They can't seem to decide if Harry is the Wizarding world's saviour, or the next Voldemort.

It's complete madness.

Unfortunately they've found out about his extensive power, and that seems to have fuelled the flames quite a lot. Harry being in Slytherin doesn't exactly help either. Some articles even accuse Harry of being the new Dark Lord.

I don't how they come up with this kind of crap.

With all the focus on us, people are mostly ignoring the other, and in my opinion much more important, news about Padma Patil going missing. No one has any idea what happened. There's no evidence of someone coming into the school and taking her, or anything like that. There's also no evidence of her getting up and leaving Hogwarts by herself. She definitely hasn't left the grounds of Hogwarts. There are too many crystal wards that would have picked up such a disturbance.

The Auror's have been questioning everybody, the teachers, the students, even ones who never actually met Padma. They're still all over the place, the Wizard cops I mean, trying to figure out where Padma might have gone. But no one saw anything. One minute she was sleeping in her bed, and the next she'd vanished.

It seems like she simply ceased to exist at all.

Parvati Patil, Padma's twin, has been hysterically upset ever since her sister's disappearance. She kept crying and shouting about her other half being gone. Her parents have taken her out of school. I can't even imagine how awful that must be for her.

I really don't like that her disappearance has been overshadowed by all that stupid stuff about my biological parents. Hermione says I'm deflecting because I don't want to think about the fact that my own mother sent me away and then killed herself.

I disagree.

It's not that I don't care, because of course I do. I care that the woman who brought me into the world was depressed enough to end her life. That's a horrible thing, and part of me wishes I'd been able to do something to stop it from happening. But not because she's my mother. I would want to help her because she's a person, and I believe that all life is important.

I've spoken to both Dalia and Adam about it via Magik mirror. Dalia was insisting that we all come home until things blow over, but we eventually all agreed that that would only make things worse. Plus, I can't imagine the Wizarding world will be getting over the fact that their saviour was raised in the same house as the illegitimate child of a Voldemort supporter any time soon.

"It's so awful," Katie says with a disgusted look on her face, "How dare she say that you're a dangerous criminal!"

Ron nods in agreement and leans over to read the article as well.

"Load of rubbish," Ron says, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I mean, dangerous sure, but _criminal_ ," I say teasingly.

Katie hits my arm,

"Hey, it's not funny. They have no right to accuse you of such horrid things."

"Yeah, just wait until they find out about the exploding toilets fiasco. Then they'll actually have something to write about." Ron says, grinning to himself before eating another sausage.

Jokes on him, that's a vegetarian sausage. I slipped it onto his plate when he wasn't looking.

I make a noise of protest,

"It was the twins who said it would be a good idea. I was just their assistant."

I didn't expect the toilets to explode quite so….dramatically.

Both Ron and Katie start laughing at me.

One thing I was worried about when all those stories started being printed about me, was my friend's reactions. I didn't know if they would still want to be my friend at all. A lot of them are pureblood's and half-blood's from prominent Light families. Ron and Katie in particular.

But all that happened was Katie writing a letter to the editor of the daily profit complaining about their inability to print anything but gossip about scandals, and Ron taking one look at the articles and grunting 'idiots'. I suppose their reactions were mostly down to the fact that they already knew all about my 'dark past' before they became my friends.

Apparently they thought I knew all about it too and just didn't want to talk about it, so they never brought the whole thing up just in case. Katie said she didn't want to upset me, and Ron said his Mum told him not to say anything for the same reason. Neville told me he figured I'd mention it if I wanted to.

Hermione is secretly very pleased about her anonymity, I can tell. I keep telling her to wait until the newspapers figure out that an Olympian was raised alongside two Wazerds. Then we'll see how bloody anonymous she is.

According to Dumbledore there have been quite a lot of reporters asking to interview both me and Harry. I shudder at even the thought. Harry would break anyone who asked him about his parents. He's definitely not in a good place right now.

Of course, I can't know for sure because he's flipping blanking me!

I may have to corner him at some point and….I don't know….force him to love me. I once hugged him for three days straight when he was angry with me. We were eight. I held onto him all day and all night. He never shoved me off even though I knew he could.

Harry eventually forgave me, if for no other reason than because he wanted to take a bath alone.

I watch as Harry gets up and leaves the hall. It's a weekend, so we don't have any classes. I have no idea where he's off to, which upsets me even more for some reason.

You know what, forget cornering him at some point, I'm gonna do it now.

"I have to go attack Harry a minute," I tell Katie and Ron.

Ron just grins and says,

"You go do that, wonderboy."

Katie raises an eyebrow questioningly, but doesn't say anything to me. She just nods and goes back to her newspaper. That's another great thing about my friends, they never ask me too many questions about my relationship with Harry and Hermione. I don't think it's because they aren't interested, it's more likely that they just don't want to make me feel uncomfortable.

I get up and quickly chase after Harry. He's moving pretty slowly, luckily for me, so I catch up to him rather easily. Even more lucky, we're in an empty corridor, which means its ok for me to grab Harry and shove him up against a wall.

I know Harry noticed me walking behind him, and purposefully didn't turn around or say anything. That's kind of what made me snap. I hold him to the wall and force him to meet my eyes.

Those emerald orbs of his blaze with anger and indignation as his eyebrows go into full on glare mode. He looks pissed off.

Well tough. He brought this on himself by ignoring me.

We stare at each other for what feels like years, but can't have been any more than a few minutes. Damn him, he still won't speak to me, not even to ask what in the world I think I'm doing. Whatever's going on with him, I don't like it, and I won't stand for it either. We've known each other too long for this crap.

"I will hold you here all day, Bolt." I say to him, using the most firm voice I can come up with.

Finally, after a few more minutes of silent staring, Harry says,

"People will be coming out of the hall soon, they'll see us."

Harry doesn't move though, and I know full well he could if he wanted to. Some part of him must want this or he'd already be gone. There's a watchful expression on his face, like I'm a wild animal and he isn't sure what I'll do next.

One advantage of being an impulsive idiot.

Anyway, whatever reason he has for staying put, it emboldens me. I say snappily,

"I don't care what anyone else thinks of me, Bolt. That was always your problem, not mine."

That gets his attention.

Pure ice appears to spindle up through Harry's body. I can feel the freezing temperature of his barely contained element even through his clothes. But his eyes still blaze like green fire.

"Get off me, Dragon."

Harry's voice is even colder than his Magik and it causes me to shiver. There's something in Harry's gaze that reaches right down inside me and twists an invisible knife.

"No." I say stubbornly.

"You're being childish," Harry says in a scornful tone.

I hate it when he uses that tone with me.

I glare at him,

"Maybe, but I figure, fight fire with fire."

Harry scoffs a little bit,

"Typical Fire Wizard."

"That better have been a joke," I warn him, a small bubble of laughter threatening to spill out of my mouth.

Flip, I'm officially becoming hysterical. Perfect.

"This is just like you, Dragon. You're such a spoilt brat sometimes. Just because you don't have all my attention you have to throw a tantrum." Harry says. His voice isn't scornful anymore. It's more cold. Clinical. Indifferent.

That's when he really drives me insane.

"This isn't a tantrum Bolt! You're ignoring me because of some bullcrap in the newspapers, and I don't understand-"

"I'm not ignoring you because of the articles-"

"Ah, so you admit you're ignoring me?" I arch an eyebrow at him.

Harry goes silent again. My frustration hits new heights and I stop pressing him against the wall. Instead I wrap myself around Harry and press my face against his shoulder. I make a sound a lot like a muffled scream.

For some reason me clutching onto him finally makes Harry react. He envelopes me in a tight embrace and slides a hand into my hair. He sifts his fingers through the white-blond and black strands. I relax a little into him.

We stay like that for quite a while. Harry feels the same as always; strong, cold and home. I didn't realise how much I missed him until now. My insides twist and burn with a strange kind of sorrow. My unusual skull birthmark also stings in reaction to Harry's presence. Pain has never felt so good.

"You're still a brat," Harry mutters against my ear, but he sounds more amused than anything.

"But you love me, right?" I hold on and squeeze Harry even harder.

Harry pulls on my hair roughly enough to make me look up at him. I loosen my hold a little so that I can meet his eyes properly.

"I always love you." Harry tells me very seriously.

A wave of warmth rushes through my veins, setting my insides of fire in a very pleasant way. I let my element consume me for a few seconds, before pushing it back down into my core.

"Then why are you acting like you're upset with me? Is it still about me flying off on the Volant board to save Neville, because I promise I'll be more careful and-"

Harry actually laughs at that and says,

"It's not about that."

"Well if it's not about the articles and it's not about the Volant board thing, then what is it?" I frown at him, really confused now.

Harry's expression turns from pained to thoughtful, and then back again a few times before he replies slowly,

"Do you ever feel like I….hover?"

"Like literally? Because I remember that story Dalia told us, about when you jumped off the roof-"

" _No_." Harry moves us around so I'm now pressed up against the wall. He boxes me in and explains, "I meant, do you ever feel like I treat you….like a broken baby bird?"

Wah?

"Where's the bird analogy coming from?" I ask, still pretty confused.

Harry shrugs,

"Hermione."

Right, of course.

"Well no then, you don't make me feel like a baby bird," I say confidently. If that's all that was bothering him then everything will be alright.

"But you do feel….stifled by my….protectiveness?" Harry looks noticeably uncomfortable, which is very unlike him. This really must be serious if he's willing to show so much emotion all in one go. It's usually more of an episodic thing.

I bite my lip and really think for a moment about the question. Sometimes I do feel a bit like Harry doesn't trust me to look after myself. But I also think 'stifled' is a strong word.

"I do wish you trusted me more," I tell him quietly.

For one single moment, Harry looks upset and hurt flashes in his eyes. But then it's gone and that familiar coldness replaces any and all signs of emotion.

"I trust you more than anyone. You _know_ that." Harry says stiffly.

I sigh and lean my head back against the wall,

"I don't mean with secrets and….feelings about stuff. I mean you don't trust that I'm capable of looking after myself. I don't need you to save me all the time."

Harry opens his mouth, clearly about to argue, but something in him seems to click, and instead of defending himself he says,

"Alright. I'll work on that then."

I arch an eyebrow at him. But when he doesn't offer anything else, I decide to change the topic to something more pleasant. And sane.

"There's gonna be a Halloween banquet party tonight in the hall."

"I believe I've heard people calling it a 'dance'." Harry says, distaste and reluctance clear in his tone.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that, it could be fun," I say. I'm quite looking forward to it actually. I haven't ever been to a dance party thing before. That kind of stuff was always for older children back home.

Harry gives me a look that clearly says he doesn't think it will be fun at all, and that he would rather poke himself in the eye with a spork than actually go.

"You're so anti-fun, Bolt," I poke him in the chest, but I'm still smiling.

Harry shakes his head,

"No, I just don't trust a roomful of Wizards and Witches jumping around like idiots. Imagine the damage some accidental Magik could cause. Think of Neville, he'll probably get so excited that all the pumpkins will explode in an epic show of fiery fusion."

I find myself laughing, even though part of me wants to scold him for being mean about Neville.

"Be nice, Bolt," I manage to get out eventually.

"That was me being nice," Harry says seriously.

"Be nicer then."

I hear the sound of footsteps approaching from somewhere in the distance. Harry immediately moves away from me and puts some distance between us. Not enough for it to look odd, just enough that we're no longer in a weirdly intimate position.

"I have to go and meet someone," Harry tells me as a few other students pass us by. They're clearly whispering about us, although I'm not sure what about exactly.

"Alright," I say, disappointed that we won't be spending any more time together.

Harry must see my disappointment, of course he does, it's Harry, he sees everything, because he says,

"I'll see you tonight then."

I nod, a little happier now that I have a confirmed time when we'll speak again,

"Yeah, see you tonight."

** Harry's P.O.V **

When we were little, Dalia used to take us trick or treating. It was sort of part of our Halloween tradition.

First we would cut out the pumpkins and light up their candles, that was Draco's favourite bit. Then we'd go to all the houses on our road dressed up, which was Adam's favourite bit. He has about a million pictures of us in various Halloween costumes.

There's one picture that Adam and Dalia had framed because they love it so much. It sits on a table in the living room. The picture is of Hermione, Draco and me standing with our arms draped over each other's shoulders, our pumpkins looming behind us, and big grins on all of our faces. Even mine, which is a miracle because I hate having my picture taken.

In the picture, Draco is on the left, wearing a fluffy blue dragon costume, complete with blue scaley face paint. He looked both ridiculous and almost annoyingly adorable.

Hermione is standing on the right dressed up as a Roman warrior, including a red cape made by Dalia out of an old table cloth.

She was very interested in Roman culture back then, a phase that lasted for about two months. Hermione even managed to convince Dalia and Adam to take us to the Roman Baths one weekend. To be fair it was pretty interesting.

Although Draco did end up slipping _cough_ diving _cough_ into one of the restricted pools. With all his clothes on. He had to be fished out via fake Roman warriors. He also had to be dressed up in a child-size toga from the gift shop because that was the only clothing they had that were his size, his own clothes being too wet and dirty from the water to wear. We all went into town afterwards and Draco walked around wearing his toga and trainers with far too much glee for Dalia's liking. He's such a lunatic sometimes.

I'm standing in the middle of the picture, between Hermione and Draco, the two of them draped over me, laughing. We were all laughing. I was dressed up as a pirate captain. Adam had managed to find some child-sized leather trousers, from where I have no idea. I refused to wear them at first, but Draco and Hermione talked me into it. Along with the leather trousers I also had a thick belt with one pistol and one sword attached, a thin black peasant style shirt, buckled boots and a black captain's hat.

That was a good night.

Of course after trick or treating we would come back home and Adam would start cooking his famous 'spooky pizza', which is basically just homemade pizza but shaped like pumpkins and witches and bats. Adam would use big cake cutters to make the pizza dough into Halloween shapes.

Then, once we'd eaten our pizza, we would take our bags of treats into the living room and empty them out onto the floor. Adam always moved the coffee table out of the way so we could all sit on the floor in front of the TV together. Then we'd watch children's Halloween movies and eat our chocolate and sweets.

I think part of my reluctance over going to this Halloween party is that I'll miss our family tradition. I didn't realise it though until I spoke to Draco. I've missed being near him so much. It's clouded my mind a little to be honest. When I held Draco in that embrace I felt like I could finally breathe again.

That cannot be healthy.

"You keep thinking a lot today," Blaise says to me suddenly.

We're sitting outside with our books, studying and writing our newest essay for Snape. It's a bitterly cold day, but sunny too. There's a very autumn feel about Hogwarts, as if the season has presented itself to the palace-like building for its approval.

I arch an eyebrow at Blaise and say drolly,

"Yes, I usually find _thinking_ helps me with most things. I don't want to brag, but I usually do it every single day. You should try it sometime."

Blaise gives me a bored look in return and says,

"Alright, smartarse. I meant you look pensive and unfocused."

I don't look over at him as I reply steadily,

"Oh, so now you're just insulting me. Thanks for that."

Blaise is smiling now, I can tell. It's a genuine one too.

"Well we are friends, aren't we?"

That actually surprises me a little. Mostly because I didn't expect Blaise to just come out and say it. I thought our friendship was one of those unspoken things that just _are_. But no, apparently Blaise needs conformation. I'm not sure what to make of that, it seems like such a strange show of weakness.

Then again, Blaise isn't exactly the sneaky high strung kind of pureblood, which is one of the reasons why I like him. I don't want to be constantly worried that my friend will be working against me. I'm sure Hermione would call such a thought over-dramatic, but that's because she hasn't seen how Slytherin works. Everything you do and say can be considered a tactic or a challenge. It's how most Slytherins, and apparently most Water Wizards, view life in general.

But not Blaise. He seems quite content to follow rather than lead. Of course that could be an act within itself, but I doubt it. I'm not sure if it's because of his criminal father that Blaise is more relaxed, or perhaps resigned. He took his mother's name for reason after all. I haven't asked him about any of it, even though I am curious, out of respect for our friendship. Blaise has been very considerate about my media shit-storm, and so I feel I owe him the same courtesy.

That doesn't mean I won't be watching him, just in case. Trust is not a luxury one can afford in Slytherin house. Not if you want to survive it without becoming a pawn in someone else's game anyway.

I look up from my Hallucinogen essay and allow my eyes to lock with Blaise's. His eyes are a deep, dark brown, and they hold a level of intelligence that I appreciate.

"Yes. We are friends."

It's a strange moment, and for whatever reason I feel as if a corner has been turned. Dalia used to tell me that life is sometimes like a book, and that there are moments in your life when you will literally feel a page turning. She told me to look out for those moments and remember them, because those moments are the signs of change.

…

It turns out that the Halloween party is even worse than I imagined. But the décor is impressive.

The hall has been completely transformed into a recreation of Wonderland, but with much darker undertones. The crystal walls, floor and ceiling have somehow been turned black or dark blue in colour, and there are sharper crystals sticking out everywhere that almost appear to glow. It looks like an abstract night sky with 4D stars that can be touched. In fact it feels like you're surrounded by the sky, almost as if you're floating through space.

There are Hallucinogen creations scattered around of hissing black cats and laughing pumpkins. If you get too close to one of the pumpkins it will start laughing your name in a much higher pitched tone. There are tomb stones too, created by Cinergy it seems, as each one you pass appears to have your name carved into it.

The music being played is dark and haunting. A big black old fashioned organ they must have moved in here is the main focus in the room, but accompanying it are a few violins. Both the violins and the organ are seemingly being played by no one as the violins are floating in mid-air, and the keys of the organ are moving without being touched.

It all adds to the creepy feel of the place. There's also something about the air tonight. Magik surrounds us even more so than usual, like it's reacting to the atmosphere.

Everyone seems to be ignoring that fact though because people are dancing and eating and laughing, seemingly oblivious to the powerful Magik consuming the night. I don't know if it's just because my power is so much stronger than most that I feel the Magik so intensely.

The only positive thing to come out of tonight is that it's given me a very good chance to observe both Snape and Qurriell undetected. There's something going on with them, I'm sure of it. I've been keeping tabs on the two professors as much as I could get away with.

I see the way they look at each other. Or I should say I see the way Snape watches Qurriell. It's the same way I watch Dumbledore. With mistrust and suspicion. Qurriell on the other hand refuses to look at anybody, let alone Snape.

Now, if that's all it was, then I'd most likely think they were having some kind of private quarrel over something. But because of the package on the third floor, I have an angle to work with.

I'm almost certain that's what has Snape so up in arms. Maybe he suspects Qurriell of trying to steal whatever it is, that's certainly a possibility. I momentarily considered that Snape was trying to steal the package and was therefore threatening Qurriell into telling him something about how to get it. But I dismissed that notion right away.

Snape is not the kind of man who would wait this long to make a move. He has no reason to be cautious. If he wanted the package then it would have been easy to take whilst he was helping set up whatever protections they have in place to keep the package safe. And even if he had waited this long, he would be able to crack a man like Qurreill open easily.

So no, Qurreill must be the antagonist in this game. He is so clearly hiding something that it's almost laughable that Dumbledore hasn't been able to see it. Either he's really dense or he has actually noticed and he's just playing dumb. I'm not sure what he hopes to accomplish by doing that, but the man is clearly a skilled manipulator.

Now all I have to do is find out what that package is, so I can make sure I know how to protect Draco and Hermione from it, and wait for Qurriell to make his move. It'll be entertaining to see how everything plays out.

I feel him before I see him.

Draco moves into sight from behind me and plants himself firmly at my side. He's all dressed up in the few fancy dress clothes we bought from Bluebell's. Zara had insisted on it just in case. Draco is wearing some dark red fitted trousers, a much lighter red waist coat with swirls of gold on it, and no shoes. Although he is wearing two blood red metal anklets. The waist coat thankfully covers his birthmark.

It's not Draco's clothing that has me staring though. One side of Draco's fae-like face has red and gold patterns painted onto it. The patterns are very detailed, and they almost look like real scales. A skilled hand must have done it. His eyes also appear much bigger and more vibrant. The light blue is very thin compared with the ring of black inside his iris. He's almost certainly wearing kohl around his eyes, that must be what's doing it.

I realise suddenly that I've been staring at him like an idiot. He surprised me, that's all. I've seen a lot of people dressed similarly, some even with face and body paint. I just didn't expect Draco to rock up looking like some kind of dragon shape shifter.

All I can find to say is,

"Make sure you keep that waist coat buttoned up, the last thing we need is for someone to see your birthmark and accuse you of dark Magik."

Draco just blinks at me, his long dark eyelashes fluttering. His eyes remind of anime characters. How can just a bit of black kohl make his eyes look like that? Then he smiles slowly and says,

"You look nice too, Bolt."

I roll my eyes at him. Of course he would say something like that. I'm also wearing my more party-esque clothes. Although mine consist of black jean-like trousers, a dark green button up, leather boots, and silver cuff bracelets. I've also put on a thick silver ring in the shape of a snake with the water symbol engraved into the snake's head. I think I might start wearing that ring more often.

"I'm serious," I say to Draco, but I lean in a little closer to whisper, "You look very pretty, Dragon."

Draco gives me a light shove and he laughs,

"Shut up, Bolt. It was the girls, they ambushed me and insisted on decking me out. I happen to think I look amazing. All the girls _and_ the boys told me I look great. Even Ron said so."

I can imagine.

"I didn't mean you look girly, I just meant you look….." like a baby dragon, "interesting."

"What are you two chattering on about?" Hermione appears seemingly out of nowhere. That girl's getting stealthy, all those extra training sessions are paying off.

Hermione had her hair cut short into a boyish style after losing one too many sparring matches because of her hair getting in the way. Her outfit tonight is simple, a black dress that fits her small body like a second skin, a leather belt, high black boots and long black gloves that reach her elbows. She looks like a tiny ninja assassin from one of those action films that Adam loves, but Dalia won't let us watch.

Draco turns on Hermione with a grin and says,

"Bolt was just telling me how fantastic he thinks I look."

I shoot Draco a soft glare, which he obviously ignores. I force myself not to blush.

"I said 'interesting'." I say, trying not to sound too defensive.

Hermione just smirks at me knowingly and says,

"Whatever you say. I'm just glad to see that you two got over your little tiff."

Both Draco and I stare at her, unimpressed. But it's Draco who says,

"We weren't having a tiff. Harry was ignoring me because he's a ridiculous person who thinks too much."

"Better than not thinking at all," I mutter, unable to help myself.

Draco just grins at me, which is somehow even more annoying than if he argued with me. Draco pretends not to notice how much he's irritated me and says to Hermione,

"You look very lovely, Hermon. Like seriously, I'm liking the whole demon princess vibe you've got going on."

Hermione rolls her shoulders back and smiles confidently. Her tawny brown eyes shine contently. She says,

"Thank you Drake. I like the scale paint…and the waist coat. Scales kinda suit you."

Draco smiles proudly,

"I know right."

Hermione turns to me, an eyebrow firmly raised. Oh for the love of….

"You look very beautiful HG. I know I wouldn't want to pick a fight with you."

Hermione looks immensely satisfied for whatever reason. It's oddly disconcerting.

Suddenly that Gryffindor girl with the amber eyes, Katie, comes marching up to Draco. She spares Hermione and me a small smile, but then her sole focus is on Draco. Katie is wearing a long silky red dress with gold Greek style sandals. She holds her hand out to Draco and asks,

"Feel like dancing with me Draco?"

Draco smiles at her in response and says,

"Yeah, ok. But don't be expecting Patrick Swasy out there."

Dalia loves Footloose. She used to watch it whenever it was on, which means we all ended up watching it a lot. Draco was the one who really took to it though. It pretty much became Dalia and Draco's thing to watch movie musicals. I almost strangled Draco when he sang Grease lightening for about the millionth time in one day.

Katie gives Draco a 'huh?' look, but when Draco winks at her, she dissolves into laughter.

Draco throws me and Hermione an apologetic look and says,

"See you a bit later, yeah."

Hermione and I nod, but we don't say anything.

Draco offers his arm to Katie and they go off together. I watch as plenty of people look over at Draco as he passes. I see more than the usual interest from some of the younger students.

Hermione nudges my arm, and I turn to look at her. She's smirking again.

"There he goes, the Gryffindor prince…if he keeps dancing with pureblood girls like that then he'll be married by next week."

I snort out a laugh,

"He's eleven, HG."

Hermione just shrugs, although even that gesture now appears strangely graceful. All her movements now appear almost cat-like. Her reaction time is clearly inhuman. I don't know too much about Olympian physiology, but it appears to be changing Hermione quite a lot. It's not just the way she moves either, it's her attitude. Hermione has never exactly been a wilting flower, and she's always been stubborn, she'd have to be to put up with me and Draco. But now she's become fiercely confident, and completely self-assured.

I'm not saying it's a bad thing, it's just an interesting development. I can't help but wonder what Dalia and Adam will think when we go home for Christmas.

"I don't know," Hermione says, "According to Kit people tend to do things young in the Wizarding world. A few of the fifth years are engaged, even one or two fourth years."

"How do you even know that?" I ask her in disbelief.

Hermione smiles and says,

"Kit's mother does the joining ceremonies. She's a very popular choice in the Wizarding world."

"I really need to talk more to your new friend," I say thoughtfully. If he has any contacts within the Ministry then that could be helpful somewhere down the line.

Hermione rolls her eyes at me,

"You will not use my friend to manipulate people. Or get information."

"I would never do that." I tell her shortly.

"Liar," Hermione says, but she's smiling again.

I call that unspoken permission.

** Hermione's P.O.V **

"Ari?" I call out into the bathroom, "Are you in here?"

I saw Ariadne run out of the party in tears. I knew some of the Ravenclaw boys were bugging her, one of them, Terry Boot, was being particularly nasty. No one else was gonna go and check on her so it had to be me.

I figured she would head for the nearest girl's bathroom a few floors down. But when there's no answer to my question, I begin to wonder if she would just go back to our rooms.

I try again anyway,

"Ari, seriously, if you're in here then tell me."

There's a long pause, and I strain my advanced senses. That's when I hear it. Breathing. She's definitely in one of the stalls.

"I can hear you breathing, Ari, I know you're here."

I walk up to the stalls and stand in front of the one I now know she's in. There are no feet on the floor though, so I figure she must be sitting on the toilet.

"Please, Ari," I knock on the door, "just come out and talk to me."

There's another long pause, and then she whispers so quietly that I need my sonic hearing to know what she's saying,

"Can you hear it?"

I frown at that,

"Hear what?"

There's nothing but silence apart from our own breathing, and a few leaky pipes.

"There's a voice." Ari whispers.

"Ari, what voice? What are you talking about?" I try not to sound a bit freaked out, even though I am.

There's something in Ari's tone that isn't right. She doesn't sound….I don't even know how to describe it. It's just a sense of wrongness.

Halloween must be getting to me.

Ari suddenly barges out of the stall and practically stumbles over to the sinks. I try to stop her from falling over, but Ari slaps my hands away with a hiss.

I gasp when I see Ari's face reflected in the mirror above the sink. Her eyes appear sunken in, and big black and purple bags loom under them. They almost look like bruises. Her skin is so damn pale, if I didn't know any better I'd say she was dying. Or a ghost.

Her lips look dry and cracked, and her body appears thinner than what I remember from training yesterday. When she speaks her voice is just a wheezy whisper, her lips barely moving at all,

"It whispers to me. It used to be just at night, but now it's all the time."

Ari's dark hair hangs in her face, although now it seems faded and limp.

"Ari, I don't understand, what's been talking to you."

Ari darkened eyes meet mine in the mirror and I am unable to stop myself from flinching back. It's like looking into vacant darkness.

"Not _talking_ ," Ari snaps with surprising force, " _Whispering_." She lifts her hand off the sink and wiggles her fingers next to her ear, she makes whispering noises.

It makes her sound demented, and to be honest I wish I wasn't alone in here with her. Not that I think Ari could hurt me, she's always been the weakest in all of our sparring sessions. But still, there's something horribly wrong happening here.

The air already feels charged with Magik and power. But now, being so close to Ari, I feel something else. Something darker and far more sinister.

"Ok, Air, I think maybe we need to go to the infirmary."

I try to move forward to touch her, but before I get the chance Ari lets out an almighty scream. The sound practically vibrates through the bathroom and echoes off the walls. I cringe harshly and back away from her as she continues to scream.

"Ari, what's wrong?" I call out to her.

Ari stops screaming abruptly, but her eyes are still wide with fear. She stares at her own reflection in the mirror, complete and utter horror playing over her face.

"No, no, no, NO!" Ari shouts at the mirror, her grip is now so tight on the sink that her knuckles have turned white.

"Ari, stop this!" I shout, but her attention is solely on the mirror now.

"I didn't mean it!" Ari starts yelling, "It was an accident! I didn't….I didn't….it wasn't my fault! It _wasn't_!"

I have no idea what she's talking about, but her voice sounds hysterical and I figure she must be having some kind of episodic fit. Although that doesn't explain the sense of wrongness that is still thick in the air around us.

Suddenly Ari makes a choking sound and I move forward to help her. I almost stop dead in my tracks when I see that her tears have turned red. Red and thick.

Ari reaches up to touch her face, and her fingers come away covered in blood. She blinks rapidly, but that just seems to make the blood leak out faster.

I grab hold of her shoulder and gasp at the coldness of her skin. She feels like she's made of ice. I try to pull her away from the mirror, but Ari holds on tight to the sink. I wrap my arms around her waist and yank her body away forcefully.

Ari just keeps choking. Her eyes crying blood.

Ari convulses against me and I have to lower us both to the ground. I hold her head in my lip, her eyes are dark and glassy, staring up at the ceiling. I try to wipe the blood away, but that's not helping to stop it.

"Hold, Ari, just hold on for me," I have to go and get help, or I'm afraid she'll die.

I carefully lay Ari's head on the ground and get to my feet.

"I'll be back, Ari, I'm gonna go get help."

Ari just convulses again, her bony body straining upwards, as if possessed. She shudders and starts choking again.

I practically fly out of that Bathroom and towards the hall. I need someone, a teacher, anyone.

When I burst into the hall, I frantically search for Professor Sprout. If anyone can fix Air, then it'll be her. I can't find her at first and I begin to panic that Ari will die before I get back.

I finally see her standing near the dessert table with Professor McGonagall. I sprint over to them and start shouting about Ari. They both appear confused at first, but then Professor McGonagall manages to get the gist. Her eyes widen in horror.

"Miss Dove is in the girls bathroom, bleeding and choking?" she says, as if to confirm.

I nod frantically,

"You have to hurry, I think she's dying."

Professor Sprout immediately starts running out of the room, presumably towards the bathroom. Professor McGonagall isn't far behind her.

I see Draco come up behind me, a concerned look on his delicate face. He stands beside me and takes my hand.

"What's going on?" he asks worriedly.

I feel tears stinging my own eyes as I start pulling him from the hall. I think people are staring now but I don't care.

"Ari, the dark haired Olympian girl, is having some kind of fit in the girl's bathroom. Her eyes Drake…her _eyes_." I shiver at the memory.

The look on Draco's face changes from concerned to upset in one instant.

"What? What about her eyes?"

We both walk swiftly along the corridor towards the bathroom, still holding onto each other hands tightly. I need that. I need that stability from one of my boys. Both would be better, where's Harry?

"They _bled_ , Drake. " I say to Draco, hearing the horror in my own voice.

Draco's own eyes widen.

"Do you know what's wrong with her?"

I shake my head,

"No, she just started screaming and screaming and then choking and convulsing and, Oh Gods, _bleeding_."

Draco swallows hard, but doesn't say anything. His expression is grim.

"Where's Harry?" I ask. I really wish he was here too. He's the only one who can make sense out of chaos.

"He ran off with your boy, Kit. I don't know what they're up to, but I saw them follow after Professor Squirrel and Snapy, so….I'm guessing some light stalking is involved."

Brilliant. Of course Harry and Kit are off playing detective.

When we reach the girl's toilets I hear nothing but silence, and I worry for a moment that it is too late and Ari is dead. I stride into the bathroom and come to a screeching halt. Ari isn't here. There's a puddle of blood on the floor where I left her, but no body.

Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout are talking in hushed tones over by the mirror. I move closer to them. Professor McGonagall must hear me coming because she spins around and snaps,

"Stay away!"

She sounds half hysterical herself, so I ignore the order and dodge her grabbing hand so that I can get a look at whatever has her so spooked.

"Don't look," Professor Sprout tries to warn me.

But it's too late.

Draco gasps behind me.

Written on the mirror are the words,

**_'Ni saro fluo sa'_ **

The words are written in blood.

"What does it mean?" I manage to get out.

I see Draco in the reflection of the mirror, his face framed by blood. His voice sounds inhuman when he rasps,

" _A soul for a sin_."

* * *

_Come little children, I'll take thee away,  
Into a land of enchantment._

_Come little children, the time's drawing near,  
Halloween night is waning._

_Come little children, The time's come to play,  
Here in my garden of shadows._

* * *

Draco wakes up gasping again. Sweat covers his body. It was that song again. In his head. Playing over and over and over.

Why him? Why is this happening to _him_?

One child was taken. A half of a whole.

Now another has been stolen. A seeker of forgiveness.

**Mirror, mirror on the wall, forgive my sins and let me fall.**


	11. Introducing Walter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)

** Hermione's P.O.V **

"Fifty more push ups Thorne! I want to see some sweat, not a lot of bitching about how your arms hurt!" Sol practically yells at Kit.

I concentrate on my own push ups, trying my best not to laugh when Kit makes a pained face at me. He waits until Sol moves away before he does it though, which is a smart move because Sol is not afraid to keep you after class for more training.

Sometimes they even take us out of our normal lessons at the request of Eos if we're struggling with a certain part of our training. I don't mind extra training really, it just gives us a chance to do better. I figure if I have to be a Zanikai then I want to be the best.

The only lesson I actually enjoy is Telepathy with Professor McGonagall. She tries to focus equally on telepathy as she does dreamscaping. I know dreamscaping is Draco's favourite lesson, and from what I can tell he's the best in our year. Professor McGonagall loves him. The whole of Gryffindor loves Draco. I didn't expect anything less.

We don't just learn how to fight physically, although that is a big part of it. We also learn how to use our abilities in the field. As weapons. We haven't been allowed to even touch an Archblade yet though.

I wasn't sure about it all at first, but I've found the whole thing very exciting and, honestly, exhilarating. It's a challenge, be sure of that, which is part of the reason why I love it. I've always enjoyed pushing my mind to its natural limits, now I'm just doing the same thing with my body.

Although Eos always says that to be a successful Zanikai, one must learn how to combine both the mental and the physical attributes that being an Olympian grants us.

I complete my own fifty push ups and then run a few hundred laps around the very large training hall/gym. Castiel and Toran, fellow Olympians, are sparring in the cage. I watch them even as I run. Toran is much bigger, both in width and height, but Castiel always runs circles around him with his compact body and lightning fast counter strikes.

I asked how he managed it once and Castiel said that he's got speed and luck on his side. Sol cuffed him over the head for that one and said that out in the field 'luck' is not a luxury we can afford to depend on. That's how Zanikai wind up dead and torn apart by Deamons.

Sol believes in a very hands-on approach to fight training. He says it's better for us to get broken bones now than to get them later when we're a second away from having our throats cut out. He has a point, albite a rather morbid one.

I'll have to remember to sugar-coat everything for Dalia and Adam when I get home. If Dalia knew even half of the things I'm learning, she'd be horrified. I know Draco and Harry won't blab, since they have secrets of their own to protect. Plus Eos' warning about the God's wiping their memories still echoes inside my head loud and clear.

After training class, or 'advanced P.E' as Kit calls it, we head towards the great hall for some lunch. We sit down at our round black crystal table. They couldn't have made it clearer that we're set apart from everyone else. We might as well be wearing a neon sign that says 'freak table'.

Kit starts eating as much meat as he can, apparently trying to help build up his muscle tone. I've already noticed the difference in both our bodies ever since we swore ourselves to what Sol calls 'the never ending hunt'.

Despite his young age, Kit has already developed a fairly muscular physic. His small body is turning into a powerhouse of sharp lines and toned everything. I'm aware of myself enough to know that the same could be said about me. My stomach no longer holds any traces of baby fat, my arms and legs are noticeably firmer. I can both move and use my body in ways I never could before.

I've pondered on these changes, as well as discussing them with Kit, and with Harry. Both seem to view it as a good thing, and so do I. Although I don't think Dalia would feel the same way if she knew. I'm honestly not sure what Adam would think.

I take out one of my telepathy textbooks and begin reading a few of my favourite sections. We have a practice exam coming up soon to see how we're all coming along, and I really want to ace it. Telepathy is, as I said, my best subject.

It's been a few weeks since Ari….went missing. The Aurors are still dropping in randomly to interview people. They've officially staked out that bathroom as well. I'm not sure what they're waiting for, and I get the distinct impression that neither do they.

I don't see how Ari managed to leave that bathroom on her own. She was quaking and bleeding all over the place when I left her. I can't stop thinking about what would have happened if I hadn't. What would I have seen if I'd stayed?

The look of fear and guilt in Ari's eyes haunts me. Every time I try to sleep all I see is her face, the thick dark blood dripping down over her cheeks. It was horrific. I don't think I'll ever be able to think of crying in the same way again.

I see a flash of something out of the corner of my eye and my instincts react automatically. I grab hold of my attacker's arm and slam it down onto the table hard enough to break something. I feel a curl of satisfaction when I hear a crack of bone. I flip my opponent so that their back lands hard on the table in front of me.

Blood rushes in my ears, and the sounds of people gasping and jumping up from their seats becomes nothing more than background noise. I keep hold of my attacker, making sure to keep a firm grip on their throat.

"Miss Granger," a broken, scratched voice says to me, "you can let go of him now."

I blink rapidly, the red mist disappears, and I realise what I've allowed myself to do. Kit stares up at me from the table.

Whoops.

"Oh, Gods, Kit! I'm so sorry," I say, guilt immediately washing through me.

Kit winces when I release his throat, and I let go of his, most likely broken, wrist. He isn't screaming in pain though. In fact he looks more amused than anything.

"I was just trying to get your attention; you looked like you were thinking hard about something. I'll remember next time to let you have your silent staring into space moment without interruption." Kit says, a weak smile on his face.

I help him sit up on the table. I vaguely notice people staring at us, but I ignore them. My focus has been snared by Ajax, who now moves to stand beside me. He checks out Kit's wrist and says,

"It'll heal in the next hour." He turns to me, "It's a clean break, well done. You can really fuck up a bone if you snap it in the wrong way."

He's probably right. As well has being much faster and stronger than normal people, Olympians also have accelerated healing abilities. Broken bones, cuts and bruises heal quickly.

I just nod at Ajax. What is there to say? Thanks for stopping me from beating up my best friend?

Kit looks at Ajax incredulously. But he doesn't say anything either. There's definitely something about Ajax. He's got that intimidating air about him. I wondered at first if it was a Zanikai thing, but now I'm beginning to think that Ajax is a special case.

I'm not afraid to meet his eyes though. Those bright silver orbs draw me in like a moth to a flame and it takes considerable effort not to move a little closer. Apparently danger draws me in. I wonder if that's a Zanikai thing, or just me being weird.

"The flip was weak though, and you reacted too late. If he'd been a real threat, then you'd be dead right now." Ajax says, his broken voice even rougher now from use. Was he born with that voice? Something inside me says no, he wasn't.

Then my mind catches up with his actual words and that snaps some confidence back into me. I glare at him and say,

"Thank you for your input. Feel free to leave at any time."

I hear Kit draw in a harsh breathe, but my attention is fully on Ajax. The older boy doesn't react in any way other than to quirk a blond eyebrow and say,

"If you ever want any extra help, let me know."

Before I can kick his arse for being so bloody…..exasperating, he walks away without another word.

There's a short pause and then Kit says,

"I think Stony Mc Moon eyes likes you."

I roll my eyes and look over at him, dragging my gaze away from Ajax's retreating form. The older boy moves with a purposeful kind of grace. He definitely has the walk of a predator. It's a strange thought, but I hope I'll be able to pull that off one day.

"I really am sorry for breaking your wrist, Kit." I say, wanting to change the topic. Fast.

Kit gives me a knowing look, but winces again when he lifts his arm.

"No worries, Hermione. It's a good thing us Olympians have high pain thresholds," he says.

I better get ahold of my instincts before I end up accidentally killing someone.

…

"The key to advanced telepathy is focus. You must remove unimportant distractions from your mind and concentrate on the person you are trying to read." Professor McGonagall says for about the millionth time. She tells us the same thing every lesson.

It seems like common sense to me that you need to focus fully on your target. But then, _actually_ knowing and only _thinking_ you know are two very different things.

I sit opposite Kit, my eyes locked with his. He has impressive defensive shielding around his inner mind. Apparently those shields were a gift from his father when he was born. I wasn't aware you could implant shields into someone else's head. Kit told me that you aren't supposed to, that it's considered dark magik, and is therefore illegal.

I asked Kit why his father, an accomplished head Auror, would take such a risk to protect his son's mind. Kit just smiled at me and said that my father grew up in dangerous times. I'm not sure what that means, but I decided not to ask any more questions. Yet.

Telepathy is also more complicated than I first thought. Although it's always come easily to me, I realised rather quickly that there was quite a lot I didn't know. In fact there's still many things I don't know about it. But I'm trying to learn as much as I can.

I can only partner with Kit for this kind of exercise because, as an Olympian, all of our mental skills are far more advanced. It would be unfair to pair me, or Kit, with an elemental. Kit takes great pride in the fact that we would easily crush them.

Part of me is still a bit envious about the elementals ability to manipulate fire, water, air or earth, but that part is very small and unimportant.

Kit quirks a smile suddenly. I can feel his telepathic fingers poking at the outer wall of my mind. There are two main parts of your mind, the inner and the outer. Professor McGonagall has taught us how to erect mental walls and create what she calls 'psychic rooms'.

Those can only be built inside your inner mind, and they're meant to be used to hide the things you really don't want anyone to know. Draco calls them 'secret chambers'. He was joking at the time, but I think the name is oddly fitting.

I can imagine Harry's inner mind is a maze of secret chambers by now.

"Stop smiling at me," I whisper to Kit, "you tosser."

Kit's dark eyes glitter in amusement and he whispers back,

"Why, is it putting you off?"

"No. It's making me want to flick you in the eye though." I push forward with my slow mental assault. My telepathic nails are scratching at a weakness in his shielding. It may not be the fastest way to get in, but it's the most effective way I've found so far.

I broke past his outer shielding easily. Your outer mind mostly holds pure emotion and short term memory rinse and repeat cycles. Sometimes you can catch a few words, but they never string together properly. Feeling other people's emotions is strange, and I've come to recognise them by colour.

According to Professor McGonagall, most people feel others' emotions differently. Sometimes it can be a certain taste or smell. Or in other cases a person will match an emotion with a mental picture, like an animal. My textbook tells me that finding your own way to recognise emotions is important and will later help you to take on more advanced methods of mental reading.

When I finally make a small hole in Kit's inner shielding I try hard not to crow with victory. I let my telepathic eyes peer inside. I don't see much at first, but then a memory rushes past me and I reach out to grab hold of it.

I see a flash of blue light, and then I'm standing in a narrow room. The room is mostly bare apart from a small bed, a wooden desk and a large blue wardrobe. The walls are grey. There's also one small window, but no curtains.

A very young Kit is sitting on the bed. He looks about five. His dark hair is shaved close to his head, and his face appears almost gaunt with its thinness.

The young Kit is playing with a broken piece of glass. I hear shouting suddenly from outside the room. It sounds close by, but not right outside the closed door. I can't make out what the shouting people are saying, but it's clearly angry shouting.

Young Kit winces when the sound of something smashing echoes through the house. Silence follows.

I watch as young Kit uses a sharp edge of the broken glass to break the skin of his finger. A drop of blood bubbles to the surface. Young Kit appears starkly fascinated by the tiny drop of blood as it slides down over his hand.

I'm suddenly yanked backwards by some unseen force. I see another flash of light and then I'm back in our classroom, staring at an eleven year old present day Kit. He's frowning at me. Those usually shinning eyes now appear wary and closed off.

I'll be lucky if Kit still wants to be my friend by the end of today. First I break his wrist and then I invade an obviously very private memory.

I give Kit a tentative, apologetic, smile. He doesn't react at first, but then after a moment he smiles back. I almost sag in relief. The last thing I want is to lose my first real friend outside of my family.

** Harry's P.O.V **

"What's this I hear about you attacking Kit?" I ask Hermione as we walk through the courtyard together. It's cold out, but not enough to keep us inside.

"Oh, don't you start!" Hermione admonishes, giving me a light shove.

I allow myself to smirk a little and I hold up my hands,

"Alright, no need to get all worked up. I wouldn't want to start an epic battle to the death with you by accident."

Hermione narrows her dark hazel eyes at me and huffs,

"Shut up, HP. It's not funny."

It is quite funny though.

"I never realised you were such a killer," I say, eyeing her speculatively.

Hermione shrugs uncomfortably, but even that small gesture is agile. Nothing is at all clumsy or awkward with Hermione these days.

"I suppose I've changed quite a lot over the last couple of months." Hermione muses thoughtfully.

"A fair observation." I say with a nod.

I reach out to touch her hand. Hermione smiles warmly at me, and I smile back. I don't mind showing my affection for Hermione, she's a very special person in my life. I've missed spending time with her, since we've both been so busy with our mostly separate schooling.

"Do you think Dalia and Adam will notice when we go home for Christmas?" Hermione asks, her voice laced with anxiety.

I consider the question seriously for a moment and then reply,

"Yes, I do. But I'm sure their immediate suspicion won't be 'she must be a warrior for the Gods'."

"In training." Hermione adds before laughing against my shoulder.

"They'll be too busy being happy that we're home," I predict, "You don't have to worry. Everything will work out."

Hermione smirks slyly at me,

"Ah, look at you being Mr. Optimist today."

Now it's my turn to roll my eyes.

"Come off it."

"No, I mean it. You do seem a bit more….chipper. What's happened?" Hermione asks, half suspicious, half amused.

I allow my shoulders to relax when Hermione links our arms together as we walk through the mostly empty courtyard. I consider telling her about my growing suspicions regarding Professor Qurriell. She already knows that I think he's shady, but what I saw on Halloween confirmed my opinion of him.

Kit, Blaise and I watched as Snape and Qurriell argued in the hall. It was clear that they were speaking about the mysterious object on the third floor. I heard the words 'stone' and 'Nicolas Flamel' and 'tithe ritual'.

Since then I've looked up everything I could in the library about Nicolas Flamel and tithe rituals. I didn't have much luck finding anything about Flamel. That is until I went to the library at night and searched in the restricted section. It took me all night, but eventually I found a small passage about an alchemist named Nicolas Flamel.

I tell Hermione all this and she listens with rapt attention. Once I'm done she's quiet for a while, clearly thinking over everything I've said. Eventually though she asks,

"So, what does Nicolas Flamel have to do with the object on the third floor?"

I explain carefully,

"Apparently Flamel created something called the 'Desetine stone', which is meant to be used in a very special and powerful ritual."

"What kind of ritual?" Hermione asks.

This is the interesting part.

"It's a tithe ritual. There are actually a lot of different tithe rituals, but they all originate from the Fae and Pixie tribes. The one that needs the stone in particular is called the ' ** _žrtvu od zvolené četiri'_**."

"The Sacrifice of the chosen four," Hermione says in a hushed tone.

I frown at her, but nod,

"Yes, that is the loose translation."

Hermione shakes her head and blinks rapidly for a moment. She returns her attention to me suddenly and says,

"Sorry. It's my Olympian brain, it sometimes understands things that I don't."

Um, alright. That is strange. I've read up on Olympian's since I found out my best friend and pseudo sister is one, but I never saw any mention of that. Of course that most likely doesn't mean anything. There's probably a lot of secret information that the Gods don't want recorded about Olympians.

"Do you know the details of the ritual?" Hermione asks, clearly wanting to change the subject. I allow it, but only because I really want to discuss this latest development.

"The book I read didn't really say much about it. I had a look for the ritual in other books, but I couldn't find it anywhere." I say, "But that doesn't mean the information isn't in this school somewhere. Also, apparently Dumbledore worked with Flamel, they're friends even."

Hermione's eyes widen,

"So you think the Desetine stone is what Dumbledore is hiding on the third floor?"

I smile briefly and say,

"Yes, I do."

….

"Are you going to the Xenta match?" Blaise asks me a few days after my discussion with Hermione.

We've agreed to keep searching for information on the stone's tithe ritual. There has to be a reason why Qurriell wants the stone, and I'm sure the answer lies in what the result of the actual ritual is.

I arch an eyebrow at Blaise and say,

"I believe so, if only so I can see what all the fuss is about."

Blaise grins then. He shares a look with Pansy, and she says,

"Sometimes we forget that you weren't raised as a Wizard, Harry."

I'm altogether not sure whether to be insulted or not. When it comes to being quietly mocked by a Slytherin you can never be too careful.

I raise one shoulder in a careless shrug, but don't say anything. Silence is usually the best policy when one is unsure.

Blaise gives up on trying to be annoying eventually and sits back in his seat properly. Pansy is still watching me though. I can feel it even though I'm not looking at her. Then again I've become pretty used to people staring at me because of the whole 'boy who lived' thing, and then all that rubbish in the papers.

It amazes me that people don't have more important things to be concentrating on than **_my_** moral stature. I'd almost feel sorry for them if it weren't so bloody irritating to be boggled at all the time like a dangerous animal in a zoo. I'm beginning to sympathise with Hermione's tiger. When we go home I'll have to get Hermione to tell him that.

If we're actually allowed back into the zoo that is. I'm not so sure we will be after what happened during our last visit right before we left for Hogwarts. Draco ended up in the bat enclosure. He cut a hole in their netted cage. I still don't know where he got that knife from. It was remarkably insane to watch Draco shooing a horde of bats to freedom whilst also shouting, "Fly my pretties! Fly!".

Dalia looked both furious with Draco, and perplexed at how to proceed with the situation. She threatened to not let Draco go to Hogwarts if he didn't stop freeing the bats. Draco just gave her a solemn look and said that if that was the price for releasing these bats from their netty prison then he would take the punishment gladly. I thought Dalia would burst into flames in response to that one.

Adam was clearly trying so hard not to laugh that it looked painful. Hermione and I just sat on a bench nearby and ate our 99 flake ice creams, watching the Draco drama unfold before us like a daily TV show. The zoo police had a field day trying to round up all the bats. In the end I think they had to work in tandem with the Bristol animal control.

One plus was that everyone ran out of the zoo screaming about the bats, so the zoo was basically empty for the rest of the day. It made it a lot easier for us to look around. I'd say that was Draco's plot to begin with, but the lunatic was probably genuinely trying to help the bats escape 'bat jail'.

"It can be fun," Blaise says, "Xenta I mean. It's worth at least seeing if you like it. You could even join the team next year if you wanted."

I blanch at even the thought. I know next to nothing about Xenta, having never felt much need to read up on it. Although according to Draco, it's a very popular sport in our world.

"I don't think so." I say to Blaise.

He just smirks at me,

"I've seen you ride a volant board, Harry. You're really good."

I smile at him a little, because I know he's at least trying to be nice.

"We have to go anyway," Pansy says meaningfully, "It's Gryffindor vs Slytherin, remember. We can't let our house down. And more importantly we can't let the Gryffindor side look like they have more support."

Blaise tilts his head towards Pansy and says,

"That's true. Snape would never let us forget it if we allowed a load of Hazards to show us up."

"Then it's agreed," I say with certain level of finality, "we'll all go to the game."

Pansy and Blaise exchange glances again, and then they say in unison,

"Agreed."

I look away from my friends then when the level of magik in the air changes dramatically. I've been teaching myself to monitor the changes in magical frequency, especially around certain people. It should eventually make it easier for me to gauge someone's individual magikal talent.

The only person I can truly sense at this point with any certainty however, is Draco.

I lock eyes with Draco as he walks into the grand hall. He has a cluster of Gryffindor's, friends, surrounding him. That's pretty much the norm these days though.

Draco's grin is so bright when he sees me. He truly shines when he grins like that. Sometimes he makes me think of a star moving among mortals.

I'm going to have to stop reading medieval poetry. Poetry is Adam's guilty pleasure, and I'm the only one in the family who knows about it. I found him reading a book of poetry once in secret, and it's been our thing ever since.

Draco waves over at me, but is quickly dragged away by his friends. He mouths 'meet later' at me and I give him a subtle nod.

** Draco's P.O.V **

I practically jump on Harry the moment I see him, and I force him into a tight hug. He goes stiff at first, like always, but when he registers that it's me, he hugs back just as fiercely. Maybe even more so. It's both cute and worrying that Harry assumes anyone who touches him has nefarious ulterior motives.

"It feels like a billion years since I saw you!" I say excitably when we finally pull away from each other.

"We saw each other this morning," Harry says, and there's a teasing glint to his emerald eyes.

I give him a look and pinch his arm,

"I meant seeing you alone."

"We met up a few days ago," Harry argues, and now I know he's just saying that to be difficult.

"Hush your face, I missed you anyway," I reply with a fully watted grin.

Despite the terrible nightmares I've been experiencing and the even more terrible realities of children going missing, I feel optimistic about the future. I really want everything to work out, and school's been going better than I ever could have hoped.

I'm really excited about going home for Christmas and seeing Dalia and Adam. I miss them so much. I miss our house, and miss it being just me, Harry and Hermione sometimes.

But I really like my new friends too. Ron and Katie especially. They've been very supportive of me, despite my semi-new status as the 'dark bastard son'. I quite like the title to be honest, it makes it sound like I'm some Victorian era illegitimate son of a king. I said that to Katie and she just huffed something about me being the only person she knows who could ever consider a national insult a good thing.

I took that as a compliment too and she just threw her hands up in exasperation.

Harry smiles at me, and it's a real that reaches his eyes. Those green irises' flash with a unique kind of pleasure. That look on Harry's face causes a shiver to spindle up my spine. I feel suddenly even happier to be near him. My magik sings in response to Harry's proximity. It's a strange feeling that I haven't quite gotten used to yet.

I'm not sure how to explain the way my magik reacts to Harry's. It's almost like my magik feels more centered when Harry is close. I feel calmer and more relaxed within myself as well. I often wonder if Harry feels the same way, but I've never asked just in case he has no idea what I'm talking about. It'd be weird if I felt our connection and he didn't.

Harry takes my hand suddenly and pulls me back so that we both slide down to sit against the wall. We're sitting close enough that our shoulders touch. I try to conceal the blissful warmth that spreads through me. Our hands are still clasped, and neither of us make a move to let go.

"So, tell me, exactly how excited are you for the Xenta match?" Harry asks after a long moment of comfortable silence. Harry's the only person I feel ok to be completely still and silent around.

A small grin spreads over my face and I say,

"Not half as much as you, clearly."

Harry gives me a dry look, but he appears amused again.

"Oh yes, go team snake I say."

I snort out a laugh,

"Your enthusiasm dwarfs mine. I don't know if I can even go now. It'd be humiliating to face the epic smugness of you if the icicles win."

"Well of course we'll win." Harry says in a mock haughty tone. He even sticks his chin in the air like he's too good to ever look down at the ground.

I frown at him,

"How can you be so sure?"

Harry aims a sly smile my way,

"Well they're playing against fire wizards, how difficult could it be to knock a few Hazards off their boards and declare victory by default."

I gasp and slap Harry's chest,

"You are so _mean_! You really would wouldn't you, that would actually be your evil plan."

Harry scoffs and says,

"No. That would be my _practical_ plan. My evil plan would involve acid rain, ice spikes and some Hallucigen trick flying monsters."

I gape at him for a moment and then start shaking my head. I poke his cheek and say,

"See, this is the side of you no one else see's. Everyone thinks I'm the weird one, but we both know that's not true at all don't we Mr Icy bint."

"Icy bint?" Harry says incredulously, "Is that my new nickname now? _Icy bint_."

"It wasn't going to be, but now I see that it bothers you I've changed my mind. Yes, from now on you will be known as the Icy bint." I say, smirking at him now.

"I suppose that's my villain name." Harry says wryly.

I wave a hand,

"No! Your villain name is the EVIL icy bint."

Harry narrows his eyes at me,

"Oh really, and who are you, the mighty hero 'Fire prat'."

I mock glare at him and sniff fake angrily,

"Yes. That is my hero name. I shall defeat you with my sunshine kisses and rainbow cuddles."

Harry makes a face, but simply says,

"That's a disturbing image."

"Yeah well, you started it," I say with a shrug.

Harry gives me an incredulous look,

"No I didn't! You did! Just a minute ago! Literally!"

I huff at him again,

"Yeah…..well….so's your face."

I dissolve into fits of giggles. Harry just rolls his eyes at me, but he's smiling too.

"You're an idiot." Harry says.

I shuffle even closer to him and Harry wraps an arm around my shoulders. It allows me the ability to snuggle him to death. Harry starts complaining about being inappropriately groped. He likes it really. Not that he'd ever admit it in a thousand years.

"I'm going to visit the sorting hat later, before the match." I say against Harry's shoulder.

Harry stiffens ever so slightly and asks,

"Why?"

"I need to ask him some stuff." I say with a slight shrug.

The truth is that the sorting hat is actually the one who requested my presence. Somehow that bloody hat got into my dreams and told me to come and see him. I've been meaning to discuss his rights as a talking hat anyway, so it's no big deal.

Hopefully.

"What kind of stuff?" Harry asks, a slight edge of suspicion creeping into his voice, "It's not about your nightmares is it?"

Now it's my turn to go still,

"How do you know about my nightmares?"

"I know _you._ " Harry says seriously, "I know when you've been having nightmares Dragon. I can feel it. I've always been able to. Don't you feel me too?"

He's right. I do know when Harry's been having nightmares. I know when he's particularly upset, and I know exactly when he's truly happy. It's weirdly disconcerting. It wasn't before, but now that I'm thinking about it in terms of a magikal connection, it does sound quite freaky.

"I feel it Bolt." I tell Harry, not willing to look up at him right now. It feels too strange.

"So, is it about the nightmares?" Harry asks again.

I bite my lip, and for the first time I can remember, I lie to Harry.

"No, it's not about my nightmares. I just want to question the sorting hat about his employee contract with the school."

I can feel Harry trying to hold it in, but eventually he relents and says,

"I don't think the sorting hat has an employee contract with the school, Dragon."

"Exactly!" I say heatedly, "I can't allow such an injustice to go on unquestioned; it's despicable that Hogwarts, and Professor Dumbledore, would be so ignorant of-"

"Alright, alright, fine." Harry interrupts before I can reach rant mode. He pulls me into a tighter embrace, "You win. Go fight for the rights of hats everywhere."

I squeeze Harry back and say,

"I'm not going to fight for the rights of _all_ hats. Just the ones who are sentient. And the ones who can sing."

"Can a truly _non_ -sentient hat sing?" Harry asks annoyingly.

"Shut up, you…you…you…Icy bint!" I dig my elbow into Harry's ribs when he starts to laugh.

"And we're back to that, you little Fire prat." Harry says, still laughing.

...

"In your dreams, what exactly do you see?" The sorting hat asks me.

"What's your name?" I ask right back.

"Answer my question." The sorting hat says.

"Answer mine." I counter.

"I asked first."

"What do you want, a medal?"

"Why won't you tell me about your nightmares?"

"Why won't you tell me your name?"

"Are you always this difficult?"

"Yes."

"That must be exhausting for your family."

"It is."

Ever since I arrived at the empty office, me and the sorting hat have been going in circles. He keeps asking about my nightmares, and I keep asking about his life. Neither of us have answered a single question yet.

The sorting hat let me into the headmaster's office, which I think is against the rules since Dumbledore isn't even here. But I'm not about to get nick picky with a talking hat. The office is large and strangely foreboding. It reminds me of the cave of wonders from Aladdin.

"Alright, how about this, we'll take it in turns to answer questions." The sorting says eventually after a long suffering sigh.

I consider the compromise for a while, the way I know Harry would want me to. Actually, he would never approve of such a situation in the first place, but I'm nosier than him and I want to know about the flipping sorting hat. So there.

"Ok, sounds fair." I say.

"I'll go first then in the interest of trust," the sorting hat says grumpily, "My name is Walter Lux."

"That is _the_. _Best. Name_. **_Ever_**!" I rise up on my toes and grin manically at Walter.

"Ok, seriously, you need to turn the optimism knob down a few notches." Walter says.

I try to school my features into something more bland and uninterested. I can't believe I'm being berated by a singing hat. It's wicked!

"Did that count as a question?" I ask.

Walter grumbles,

"No! It was a statement you wally, now hush and let me ask my question."

I hold my hands up in surrender,

"Go forth Mr Lux."

Walter frowns at me. Or at least I think he's frowning. It's kind of hard to tell when a pointy hat is making any kind of facial expression.

"When you're inside your nightmares, what do you see?"

A prickle of unease moves slowly through my body when I even thinks about my recent bout of nightmares.

"Well, I guess I see pitch black darkness at first and then...and then there are shadows all around me. I can't make them out properly, but they sing to me. To be honest it's more of the feeling that scares me rather than the shadows themselves. Although the song haunts me even when I wake up."

Walter appears to think about that for a long time. It gives me the chance to think of my own second question.

"How were you created?" I ask Walter, leaning forward with interest.

Walter gives me a solemn look at that, or at least I think he does. Again, it's hard to tell with the hat-face.

"I wasn't always a hat."

I tilt my head to the side in confusion,

"What do you mean?"

"Ah, ah, ah, Mr Black, that isn't how this game is played." Walter says warningly.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes and gesture for Walter to ask me his next question.

"Do you ever see a mirror in your dreams?"

I'm taken aback by the question, and I automatically want to say no. But that would be a lie.

"I think so. Maybe. I never see it properly, it's more like a projection I see out of the corner of my eye, but I can never fully turn to look at it."

Walter makes a thoughtful humming sound.

"Interesting." he mumbles unhelpfully.

I push on with my next question,

"If you weren't always a hat, then what were you before?"

Walter answers sadly,

"I was once a person. A human being."

I gasp in shock. I desperately want to ask what happened, but I know Walter won't answer until we've gone through his next question.

"The song the shadows sing to you...describe it to me."

I search through my mind, trying to find the right words. That terribly haunting song makes my insides cramp and my heart speed up.

"The song calls to me, like a siren enticing ships onto the rocks. At least that's what it feels like."

This time I can tell it's Walter who wants to follow up with another question, but it's my turn so I ask,

"What happened? How did you end up a hat?" I know that's two questions technically, but they go into the same thing.

Walter sighs heavily again and says,

"I was just a boy. I made a terrible mistake, and I was punished for it. Cursed to spend the rest of my existence as a hat."

"That's awful! Can you be turned back?" I feel sympathy pool in my stomach.

Walter apparently chooses to ignore how I broke the question pattern and says,

"Maybe. One day. If the right person came along who could undo the curse. Dumbledore has tried, but he isn't the right wizard."

That causes a powerful wave of determination to flow through me.

"I'll help you! We can turn you back into a person together!"

Walter appears slightly confused,

"Why would you do that?"

I shrug, not understanding the question.

"That's just what you do when someone needs help and you have the power to help them, right?"

Walter stares at me for an agonisingly long moment, before saying,

"Alright, then I'll help you figure out your nightmares in return."

I grin at Walter,

"It's a deal."

* * *

**I am The Mirror.**

_The mirror of shadows._

**I am The Mirror.**

_The mirror of truth._

**I am The Mirror.**

_The mirror of fear._

**I am The Mirror.**

_The mirror of all that is dark_


	12. A Christmas Wedding cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Christmas Wedding cake

** Hermione's P.O.V **

The moment we catch sight of Dalia and Adam waiting for us on platform nine, Draco starts running like a wild thing towards them. A bubble of excitement and relief floods me. I didn't realise quite how much I missed them until I saw their smiling faces watching for us.

They don't appear to have changed in the last few months since we left. Dalia's blond hair is a little longer, and I think she might have gained some weight. Not in a bad way though, she actually looks a lot healthier. When we left for Hogwarts Dalia was pale, anxious and far too gaunt. Now she seems more like herself, which makes me feel intensely relieved for a whole other reason.

Adam is still the same grinning tree he always was. Far too tall and optimistic. I know Adam is where Draco gets his ridiculously positive attitude from.

I speed up a little, turning my fast walk into a smooth jog. My body moves differently now. Whereas before running felt almost uncomfortable and disjointed, now it's like I'm a big cat who can practically glide through the air around me.

Harry doesn't run. Harry never runs. He wouldn't lower himself to show such a desperate need to go anywhere. It would be too much like showing emotion, the need for something, and to Harry needing something is a weakness.

He does speed up a bit however, and his lips do quirk up into a small smile. I can see the happiness clearly in the way his emerald eyes brighten like a particularly full moon at the sight of our guardians.

Adam's grin is fully watted when Draco comes running at him. He catches Draco in his arms and yanks him into a full blown embrace. Adam lifts Draco off his feet and squeezes him tightly. Dalia moves in to take her own hug from Draco, who returns the hug enthusiastically.

When Harry and I reach them, Dalia and Adam take turns pulling us in for long, warm embraces, as well as kisses from Dalia and ruffled hair by Adam.

Dalia takes us all in for a long moment, and her eyes start to water. She says emotionally,

"I missed you three so much!"

"Hell yeah we did, the house has been so boring without you," Adam says sincerely.

Dalia throws him a sideways glance and says,

"Boring, huh?"

Adam appears to realise his mistake. He smiles gamely at Dalia and replies,

"Never a dull moment with you honeybunny."

Dalia makes a face at him and slaps his arm, but she's smiling too when she says,

"Never call me honeybunny again you muppet."

Adam turns to us and says,

"We're trying to find appropriate husband and wife nicknames for each other."

Dalia rolls her eyes in exasperation,

"No, _you're_ trying to find me a ridiculous pet name that you know full well I'll refuse to answer to."

Adam lets out a huffed breathe, looking frustrated,

"I can't go through the whole rest of our lives together without knowing what to call you!"

Dalia leans over and kisses his cheek,

"You're an idiot," she says.

But Adam just quirks an amused eyebrow at her and says,

"You know you love me."

I exchange humorous looks with Draco, who looks about ready to burst with excitement and happiness. I know this holiday will be full of Draco chattering on and on and on about _everything_. It'll probably drive us all mad.

But then that's pretty much our norm.

"WE MISSED YOU TOO!" Draco announces suddenly. Loudly. Very loudly. People around us actually turn to stare.

Dalia and Adam look back over at us suddenly.

"How are the wedding plans coming along?" Harry asks, his tone polite and low-maintenance as always, but there's a subtle undercurrent of joy that makes me want to laugh. Being reunited with our pseudo parents feels beyond good.

All three of us have been looking forward to coming home for ages. It feels almost unreal that we're here. It feels even more unreal that in a few weeks time we'll be back at Hogwarts again. I push that thought firmly away, refusing to make anything about this moment sad.

"The wedding plans are….interesting." Adam says mysteriously.

"Well are you ready for Wednesday?" I ask, worried a bit now. I was really looking forward to Dalia and Adam getting married. I don't want anything to ruin it.

Dalia is quick to reassure us,

"Everything is fine, we're completely ready for Wednesday," Dalia slides a small smirk at her future husband and adds, "Ignore Adam, he's just being annoying on purpose because I didn't let him choose the flowers."

Adam huffs dramatically and says,

"I wanted the daises."

"I will not allow our wedding to be decorated with weeds. Especially not for how much that florist was charging." Dalia replies firmly, and she starts hustling us all away towards the car with our holiday bags of clothes and our pets; two unusually chatty snakes and a puffball orphaned kitten.

"What's wrong with daises? You could have worn one in your hair. It would have looked beautiful." Adam argues with his usual amount of vehemence.

Dalia rolls her eyes at him,

"I would never wear a daisy in my hair."

Adam scrunches his face up in confusion,

"Why not?"

We all climb into Adam's quarter-life crisis car. Myself, Draco and Harry are in the back with our bags and animals on our laps. Adam gets into the driver's side and Dalia takes her usual place in the passenger's seat. I smile at the blue dice still hanging from the mirror in the front.

Dalia levels her fiancé with a steady look and replies,

"Because I am not a cartoon cow from a children's book."

Adam slaps a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing at that. There's a few moments of silence and then….

"I would never call you a cow, Lia." Adam manages to get out from behind his hand.

Dalia touches her forehead, as if trying to ward off a headache. She regards Adam coolly for a moment before saying deadpan,

"I'm divorcing you."

Adam gapes at her and says,

"But we aren't even married yet."

Dalia waves a hand,

"Technicality."

Adam puts on a sad face and mumbles dejectedly,

"I feel sad now."

Dalia shrugs uncaringly,

"Good."

The three of us just watch as the two adults we love argue good naturedly. Harry and Draco keep exchanging meaningful glances, but I ignore them and instead concentrate on looking forward to getting home. I missed my room. Our living room. Our kitchen. Our garden. I even missed the dingy and cold attic room that we used as a good hiding spot when we were younger.

Cheshire stretches out on my lap, her puffy tail flicking around lazily. I gently scratch her tummy. I look over to see Harry whispering something to himself. When I lean a little closer I see that Harry's snake, Spero, is coiled around his shoulders. It's always been strangely disconcerting to see Draco or Harry converse with snakes. Mostly because of the amount of intelligence and understanding the snakes seem to have in their eyes.

Draco refused to cage their owls Ying and Yang, so they've been sent to our house already. They'll probably be waiting there when we get home.

…

"Go on then, I know you've talked about it in your letters, but tell us again what it's like to have _elemental powers_ ," Adam says, he wiggles his fingers and there's an amused glint in his hazel eyes.

Dalia watches us over the rim of her favourite tea mug. It's a mug we made her for mother's day last year. Adam took us to a special shop where you can make personalised stuff like plates and mugs and cups. Each of us painted something on a big plain mug.

Harry painted a positively stunning snow flake. He really does have natural artistic talent, not that I'm an expert, but I love his charcoal drawings. Draco painted a black and gold dragon (obviously). I painted a baby tiger playing with a flower. Since we gave it to her I can't remember seeing Dalia drink from any other mug but that one.

"It's the best feeling in the world, like, ** _ever_**. When you have complete control of your element it feels like….like you could do _anything_. It's a complete rush." Draco says with a grin before he takes another big bite of cake.

Adam made us a 'welcome home' cake. I'm not sure how he's managed it, but the cake is split into three parts. One third is sponge cake with blue icing and multi-coloured sprinkles all over it. _Draco_. Another third is chocolate fudge with dark chocolate melted on top. _Harry_. The last third is mostly plain, but covered in powdered sugar with white chocolate in the middle. _Me_.

The man knows us.

Adam calls it a 'personality clash cake'. He's thinking about introducing it to the restaurant as part of their special party menu. Adam said that his babies endlessly inspire him. Harry replied dryly that he was glad our existence at least added something to the cake industry if nothing else.

Harry was punished for his cheek when Adam gave him a cuddle. Draco almost snickered himself to death because of the look on Harry's face during the epic cuddle moment. He looked like he wanted to poof out of existence right then and there. That boy is such a weirdo when it comes to any kind of affection.

Adam is also making his own wedding cake. He's using the 'personality clash cake' as his jumping off point. Adam said that there will be three different layers, and that each layer will represent a child who brought Dalia and Adam together.

A.K.A-Me, Harry and Draco.

But since it's Christmas, Adam also wants to incorporate Christmas themes into the cake. It'll probably end up with marshmallow snow men and chocolate Santa hats all over it.

"Can you show us anything, or are you all banned by the powers that be from revealing your newly developed ju ju?" Adam asks curiously, looking at each of us in turn.

Dalia places her mug down on the table and watches us worriedly. I don't know what she's more afraid of, us showing her our advancing magik, or us hiding it from her. Either way I don't want to upset her. It's no wonder all this stuff makes her feels uncomfortable. It made me feel the same way at first.

I think you have to fully immerse yourself in it to ever really get used to the feel of magik.

Draco and I look to Harry for guidance on this one. Harry doesn't noticeably do anything, but there's a certain twitch to his jaw that tells us loud and clear to let him take care of it.

Harry sits forward slightly in his chair. He appears completely relaxed and casual, or at least he would to anyone else. But I can see the subtle lines of tension running all along his body. He's like a spring waiting to be let loose. Although that's always the way I've thought of Harry's magik. Despite Draco and Harry seemingly being equally as powerful, there's something untamed and wild about Harry's magik.

It's funny really, because you'd expect it to be the other way around. But Draco seems to not even notice his own power all that much, like it's just something that's _there_. Draco's magik is deeply settled inside him, and it grounds his power instinctively.

Harry's power and magik constantly swirls around him like a never-ending storm. It makes him seem just that much more dangerous and unpredictable. I understand why everyone stares at him. Harry thinks it's because of his fame, but I'm pretty sure people would stare at him regardless. It's almost possible to ignore that kind of power.

I don't think Draco even notices what he does to people. He's always been the type who draws a lot of attention because of his…unique personality, and his extremely fae-like beauty. I'm pretty sure by this point he has all of Gryffindor wrapped around his little finger.

Harry's expression is blank but not ice cold or condescending. He would never look at Dalia or Adam with anything other than complete respect.

"We aren't really supposed to use magik outside of Hogwarts," Harry explains calmly, "but since it's not something we can always control, the Ministry couldn't exactly make a law out of it. Our professors advised us against using our elemental abilities at home."

I realise suddenly that he's really only saying that for my benefit. I've evaded questions from Adam and Dalia about my own elemental power for months, not wanting to admit that I don't have any and that my skills lie elsewhere.

But I don't want to lie to them either.

"Well then, there's no point in getting you all in trouble," Dalia says, looking almost equally relieved and disappointed.

Adam sighs heavily, but he quickly masks his own disappointment by grinning at us again and saying,

"Tell us more about this Xenta thing then. It sounds insane."

"And dangerous," Dalia adds with a small frown.

Ah, Xenta, well that was definitely an experience and a half.

Draco sits forward, excitement flashing in his eyes as he explains,

"Well, there are three positions you can be. Enforcers, Defenders and then one Hunter for each team. The Defenders have to protect the ring of Cinergy from being breached. There's two rings of Cinergy on each end of the stadium. The Enforcers try and get one of the four elemental balls through the other team's ring of Cinergy. Each time they get one through its ten points."

Adam seems to take all that in his stride, God knows how, and asks,

"What about the Hunter, what do they do?"

Draco is all but bouncing in his seat now. His pale blond hair is so long now that it curls around his ear and I swear I see sparks pinging off of it.

"The Hunter's job is to the catch the Jednaki, but everyone calls it 'Jak' for short. It's a small ball of silver and gold Cinergy, and it moves really fast around the stadium. If the Hunter catches the Jak then that team automatically get five hundred points."

Adam nods along and then asks,

"And you….fly around on….?"

"Volant boards, they connect with our magikal core." Draco says, a big smile on his face.

There's a short pause and then Dalia says quite firmly,

"You will not be playing it Draco."

Draco's expression becomes one of dismay,

"But….but it's so _cool_!"

Dalia expression become even more stern,

"I said no, and I meant no. Xenta sounds ridiculously dangerous. I won't have you flying around on a small board high up in the air where you could fall and break your neck. No, I shan't have it."

Draco looks close to tears, and I almost roll my eyes. I have to agree with Dalia, I don't want Draco risking himself like that for no good reason.

Harry moves suddenly and leans in very close to Draco. He places a hand on the back of Draco's neck and whispers something into his ear. Draco immediately relaxes and settles into Harry's touch without argument.

Draco looks up at Dalia again and says,

"Alright, I won't play."

Dalia visibly loosens and smiles at Draco. She says,

"Thank you sweetheart."

I know this is probably an argument they'll have again, because I can't imagine Draco honestly giving up on the idea. He's too crazy and stubborn.

For the first time I'm glad that Harry and Draco both have such dominant personalities, although in different ways, because it means I can fold myself into the background more easily. I don't want Dalia and Adam to ask me too many questions, only for me to have to lie about everything.

** Draco's P.O.V **

"Oh, you all look so wonderful!" Dalia clasps a hand over her mouth as she looks at the three of us standing together in a row.

It's the day of Dalia and Adam's wedding.

They decided to get married at an old manor house in the countryside. It's a really beautiful place, simple, but elegant at the same time. I think it suits Dalia and Adam perfectly. They'll get married in the main hall, and then there's a separate bigger ballroom where we'll eat and have the evening do.

Harry and I are wearing matching navy blue suits, but Harry is wearing a green tie that really brings out his eyes. My tie is pale silver. Both our dress shirts are a dark blue. For a laugh Adam gave us cuff links. Mine are dragons, and Harry's are in the shape of snakes.

"I really do love your hair like that, Hermione," Dalia says, and she reaches out to gently smooth Hermione's now short light brown hair. It's been moulded today with hair wax to make it look sleek and a bit spiked on the ends. She reminds me of a pixie princess.

Hermione really does look beautiful. She's wearing her bridesmaid's dress, it's the same dark blue as the dress shirts and has a sweetheart neckline. The dress synchs in at the waist with a silver stripe of ribbon, and then puffs out into more of a skirt that stops just above her knee. Hermione even has silver heeled shoes. I'm looking forward to seeing her try to walk in them even with her new ninja stealth skills.

Of course none of us can compare with Dalia who looks absolutely stunning in her slightly off white lace wedding dress. Dalia's dress is quite old fashioned and delicate looking. To me she looks like a Lady from 1920 something who's about to marry a Lord.

That thought makes me want to laugh, because Adam is about the least 'Lord-like' person I know. Apart from maybe Ron.

"You look amazing!" I say to Dalia, grinning at her.

"Adam is a lucky man," Harry tells Dalia sincerely, and he says it in such a sombre way that I know he really means it.

"It's true," Hermione says with a genuine smile, "we're all lucky to have you."

Dalia looks at us with such love and appreciation in her eyes, that it causes something inside me to crackle with warmth. Dalia looks like she might cry, and the moment is charged with so much real emotion. It makes me want to sing a little bit.

Can I sing?

Should I?

I could sing.

When I open my mouth Harry pinches my hand and whispers under his breathe,

"Don't sing."

Damn him! He knows me too well. That tosser better not be reading my mind covertly or some such.

"I was gonna go for something tasteful," I whisper back.

Harry gives me a look that clearly says he thinks I'm an idiot.

"Like what?" he asks.

I have to think about that actually. What would be the perfect song for this moment?

"That Disney song 'You'll be in my heart'." I answer eventually.

Harry just stares at me for a while and then just shakes his head.

"You're so weird." He murmurs almost thoughtfully.

Harry doesn't mean it, he likes it when I sing. I used to sing to him sometimes when he had bad nightmares. Although he doesn't actually know about that because he always stayed asleep. But I know he liked it because he would stop tossing and turning when I sang to him.

"Thank you my lovelies," Dalia says to us kindly, then her mouth quirks up into an amused smile, "But we all know who the prettiest person in this room is."

I look at Hermione. But she just smirks at me. I'm confused until all three of them say at the same time,

" _Draco_."

They all crack up laughing. I cross my arms and pout. Because I'm manly like that apparently.

Harry gives me a little push towards the mirror in the room where Dalia was sent to get ready. It's tall and, like everything else in this manor, very old.

"Go ask who's the fairest of them all." Harry says, humour in his voice.

I shoot Harry a narrow eyed look,

"Hush your face. I'm _not_ a princess."

That just gets me even more laughter from them. The gits.

See, though, the bad thing is that I've genuinely been avoiding mirrors lately. For some reason they make me feel…uncomfortable. Even before Ari was taken and that horrible message was written on that mirror in the girl's bathroom I felt like something was…off.

I can't work out what it is though. I was talking with Walter a lot in the last few days before Christmas break about my weird dreams. I figure it has to be related to that. As much as I'd like to tell myself that it's just a bad feeling, I think there's something really strange going on inside my head.

One of Dalia's friends opens the door then and peers around to look at us. She smiles and says simply,

"It's time, Lia."

A flutter of nerves washes through me, and I have no idea why. It's not like I'm the one getting married here.

….

The hall where the ceremony is being held is large enough that Harry, Hermione and I can walk behind Dalia together. Hermione is in the middle with one arm through mine and the other through Harry's.

All of Dalia and Adam's friends are present, as well as quite a few children from Hollow's house.

Adam is standing at the front in his really cool suit. I remember when we went to get our suits. Adam took us to a special tailor's in town.

_Adam kneels in front of me and Harry and says seriously,_

_"Getting your first suit is a rite of passage that all young men should experience with their father's."_

_Harry quirks an eyebrow and asks him,_

_"Did you get that off of the sign in the front of the shop?"_

_Adam pauses, and then rocks back a bit on his heels. He makes a thoughtful face and mutters to himself,_

_"I really need to adopt some children who can't read."_

_"Well that explains why Hermon isn't here." I say._

_Adam laughs, but then he moves forward again and places a hand on each of our shoulders. He squeezes my shoulder and gives me a fond look._

_"Hermione isn't here because she's off with Dalia looking at dresses. You two are my boys, and so we're gonna get suits together. I never got to do it with my Dad, and," Adam's expression becomes solemn, "you two wont' get to do it with yours. I wish you both could have had that. But I'm hoping you'll settle for me."_

It was such a strange moment. I think me and Harry were both surprised. Adam is very rarely so serious about anything. He's usually always the first one to make a joke out something, or laugh stuff off. But when he looked at us on that day, it was like he'd ripped away a mask to reveal something grave and knowing underneath.

For the first time ever, Adam had looked…..old. Like a proper adult.

A proper **_Dad_**.

I wasn't quite sure how to handle it to be honest. Lucky for all of us Harry stepped up.

_Harry searches Adam's face for a very long moment, his emerald eyes practically sparkling with intelligence. Then he does something I don't think I've ever seen him do before; he moves forward and wraps his arms around Adam's neck._

_Harry hugs Adam. On purpose. By choice._

_Like, that **never** happens._

_Harry doesn't even hug **me** that often._

_Adam appears just as surprised. He glances at me over Harry's shoulder, a look close to panic on his face. I make shooing motions at him and mouth 'hug him back, quickly'. Adam wraps his own arms around Harry then and pulls him a little closer._

_They stay like that for a while. It's kind of ridiculously sweet actually._

_I find myself eventually saying,_

_"We love you Adam. If I could choose, I'd still want you to be my Dad."_

_I reach out and touch Adam's arm. Harry pulls back a bit then and lets me in on the hugging action. Adam lays an arm around our shoulders and says, sounding a bit choked up by this point,_

_"If I could choose my own sons, I'd pick you two every single time."_

_I laugh a little at that,_

_"Adam, you **did** pick us. We're adopted, remember."_

_I look over at Harry and see that he has a serious expression on his face. I can tell this is important to him._

_Adam shakes his head,_

_"Nah, I didn't choose yeh. The universe sent you to me and Dalia because it knew we needed you. We were a couple of lonely buggers before you three came along."_

_Harry looks up at that and says,_

_"Maybe the universe knew something else as well."_

_Adam smiles at Harry and asks,_

_"What's that then?"_

_Harry lifts one shoulder in a slight shrug, but his eyes are intense when he says,_

_"That we needed you too."_

I look over at Harry then, the memory warming me from the inside out.

The moment Adam saw Dalia his face split into an almost reverent smile. He looks so happy. In fact he looks like the happiest man who's ever lived. I know how much Adam worships Dalia. He really loves her. Adam loves Dalia in the way that everyone secretly wants to be loved.

I hope that I'll love someone like that one day. I know that if I ever do love someone that much then I will treat them as well as Adam treats Dalia.

Harry catches my eye when we get up to the front. I wink at him. He rolls his eyes back at me, but there's too much happiness on his face for it to be scolding.

We stand together behind Adam, whilst Hermione goes to stand behind Dalia.

It's been hard for Hermione since we got home. She's been trying really hard not to lie to Adam and Dalia about her new status as 'Zanikai in training'. I can tell it's taking a toll on her. It makes me so angry that the Gods believe they have any right to make Hermione feel that way. She should be able to be honest with her family at least.

I do think Dalia has started to catch onto something though. I've seen her watching Hermione sometimes when she thinks no one is looking. It's true that there is something undeniably different about Hermione. She moves differently, she talks differently and she even appears to think differently about some things. It's not altogether a bad change, but it must be startling for Dalia and Adam.

I stand next to Harry through the ceremony as we watch our pseudo parents get married. At some point during the vows Harry's hand touches mine. A zing of something like electricity shoots through my system. I can feel Harry's magik rumbling contentedly at the contact.

I allow mine and Harry's fingers to lock together behind our backs. We don't look at each other, but I can feel the cold heat and undeniable strength of him. I don't know if 'cold heat' even makes sense, but that's what Harry is. Touching Harry must be what touching the inner layers of a volcano feels like.

Being loved by Harry is like being enveloped by a raging thunder storm. It's an intense sensation that consumes your very being. It's not even a choice, you can't stop it. I can't.

Sometimes it's too much, and in those moments it truly scares me. I'm not afraid of Harry. I could never fear him like that. But what we have between us scares me.

I know I'm young, and I don't quite understand everything that I need to understand yet, but it's there. It's always there. Waiting for me. Waiting for him. Waiting for **_us_**.

** Harry's P.O.V **

"Happy birthday HP!" Hermione says with a big smile.

"And a merry Christmas to you too," I reply, smiling back at her.

It's Christmas day and my birthday. I discussed the idea of changing my birthday, since now we know when it actually is, with Dalia and Adam. But eventually it was unanimously decided that my birthday should stay the same. As far as I'm concerned I was born on the day Dalia found me.

We've all been gathered in the living room because Dalia and Adam apparently have something to tell us before we open our presents. I'm pretty sure I know what they're going to say. I knew from the moment we got home that they're were hiding something. From the data I've gathered I'm fairly certain that I could guess correctly if asked.

Dalia appears nervous as she tugs on the sleeve of her pyjama top. She has an expression on her face that borders on nervous, but also leans into excitement. Yes, I'm definitely right about the big secret.

All five of us are sitting on the floor next to the heavily decorated blue Christmas tree. Yes, blue. We tried having a real tree a few years ago and it ended badly when Draco and Hermione gathered up all the pin needles and used them as weapons. They chased each other around the house throwing handfuls of pine needles at each other like lunatics.

So for the next year Dalia decreed that we would get a fake tree and be bloody grateful for it. Dalia told us that we could get any fake tree that we wanted, except for the pink trees. So we decided to choose a blue one just to throw Dalia off. Our tree is properly neon blue mind. It's pretty strange even for us.

Draco is alert and excitable as always. But even more so since it's Christmas. His iris' are crackling like they've been zapped full of electricity. His snake, Vita, is curled around his shoulders with his black head resting on Draco's chest almost comfortingly.

My own snake Spero hisses into my ear,

_"When do we get to the part of your human ritual when you eat? I would like a sausage."_

I refrain from rolling my eyes and reply,

_"Patience. My guardians need to tell us something, then I'll go get you and me some breakfast."_

Spero's thin tongue tickles my ear as he hisses,

 _"But you already know the secret."_ Spero sounds about as whiny as a snake can ever sound.

 _"Yes, but they deserve the right to tell me themselves."_ I explain.

 _"Human are strange."_ Spero muses thoughtfully, _"Can we not just go and get some sausage first and then come back to the meeting?"_

 _"You know you're very annoying when you're hungry."_ I tell him, frowning.

_"So are you when you starve me. I'll forgive you if you get me a sausage now though."_

_"If I don't?"_

_"Then I'll contact the RSPCA and report you."_

_"Tell them how? With mime?"_

There's a pause. And then,

_"I will tell Draco and he will report you to the RSPCA."_

I shake my head in exasperation.

_"You frustrate me."_

_"I frustrate everyone."_ Spero hisses sounding somewhat smug.

 _"Nice talent."_ I reply drolly.

_"I like to think of it as more of a carefully cultivated skill."_

_"Ridiculous snake."_

_"Racist."_

_"What in the world are you on about now?"_

_"You hate snakes."_

_"Snakes. Are not. A RACE."_

_"Well now you're just being genuinely insulting."_

_"That's it. Shoo, Spero, go and annoy Draco or Vita for a while."_

_"Snakaphobist."_

I should never have taught him to read English. I definitely shouldn't let him read the Guardian anymore.

"You're so cute when you argue with your snake." Hermione says suddenly.

I look at her sharply,

"I am not _cute_."

Hermione is grinning now, and I realise that my entire family is watching me. Draco leans in closer and says,

"Hermon's right, Bolt. Super cute."

I narrow my eyes at him and say,

"Don't make me be mean to you just to prove a point, Dragon."

The smile fades from Draco's face and he mumbles,

"Fine. You win. But only because it's your birthday."

"Alright, enough you three," Dalia starts, and she's using her parent voice so we all look up at her instantly. "Adam and I have something important we want to tell you."

Adam takes Dalia's hand and positively beams at her. Ever since their wedding Dalia and Adam have been all cooey and lovey. I figure the sooner they get to go off on their honeymoon the better.

As much as I've really enjoyed being at home, I also really want to get back to school. Of course Hermione and I have been having regular study sessions together to keep our skills sharp. Draco just rolls his eyes and calls us sad whenever we try to get him to do homework together.

"First, before we say anything else, we just want the three of you to know that no matter what, we love you and we will always be here for you." Dalia begins, looking even more nerviously excited than before.

Adam takes over then and says,

"The thing is, whilst you were away, Lia and I got some very important news. I won't lie to you, it's going to change things quite a bit."

"But not in a bad way," Dalia rushes to reassure us.

Adam shakes his head slightly and looks suddenly very serious,

"No, never in a bad way. In fact I think it's quite brilliant news."

"Are you gonna tell us what it is any time soon or not?" Hermione asks, her eyebrows climbing high with curiosity.

"Yeah, let us in on the secret already!" Draco says, leaning forward and tilting his head. He still reminds me so much of that white baby fox I once saw out in a field only days before I met him.

Dalia and Adam exchange one more meaningful look, and then they both turn back to us. Dalia lets out a long breathe and finally says,

"Adam and I are having a baby."

Called it.

Draco's mouth pops open, but no sound comes out. Holy hell, I think he might actually be speechless, now that's something worth documenting.

"Are you serious?" Hermione asks, sounding equally as shocked.

Dalia dips her head in a slight nod and Adam says,

"Yes, we're seriously having a baby. We found out not long after you all left for Hogwarts. We wanted to wait until you were home to tell you."

"If you have any questions, then please don't be afraid to ask them, we would like you to feel as involved in this as you want to be." Dalia says sincerely, her eyes scanning each of us individually.

That seems to snap Draco out of his muted state and he blurts suddenly,

"Do we get to vote on what we name it?"

That inspires a burst of laughter from all of us and it cuts through the tension perfectly.

...

"You so completely knew, didn't you?" Hermione acuses, giving me the suspicious eye.

It's almost midnight on New year's eve, and Hermione, Draco and I are reviving our New year's tradition of sleeping outside in the garden. I look up at the stars in the sky and let go of heavy sigh.

"Maybe I did." I admit to Hermione.

"Of course you knew," Draco groans from my other side, "you always know everything."

"Not my fault that I pay attention to my surroundings." I say defensively.

The three of us our led in a tight circle, our heads touching as we all stare up at the night's sky. Even though we're just in our own garden, it's strangely beautiful out here.

Draco reaches over to flick at my fringe and mutters,

"Show off. You just guessed, admit it."

I roll my eyes even though he can't see it and say,

"No, I formulated a likely hypothesis based on the facts provided. Simple as that."

"Oh my flip flop, he's becoming more and more Slytherin by the hour." Draco complains, but there's humour in his tone, so I know he's just teasing.

"I told you we shouldn't have let join the dark side," Hermione says mock sagely.

Draco makes a snorting sound,

"Pfft, those flipping Icicles have their jaws in him now, we'll never get him back."

"I'm right here you know," I say, waving a hand up in the air, as if announcing my existence.

"We know," Hermione and Draco say at the same time, and then they start snickering.

"You're both mental." I say seriously.

There's pause then, and I can tell at least one of them is pausing before asking a question.

"Do you think it'll be weird having a baby in the house?" Draco says, sounding thoughtful.

"Nah, we put up with you, didn't we?" I say automatically.

Draco slaps my stomach. Hard.

"Be nice to me, Bolt, or I'll make the baby my new favourite."

"The baby's already _my_ new favourite," Hermione says dryly.

"Everything will be fine," I tell both Hermione and Draco firmly, getting back to the original point before we all descend into madness, "we're all still a family, like Dalia and Adam said. Neither of you ever need to worry, I promise."

"We have each other anyway, even if everything else goes to shit," Draco says, in a rare moment of broody pensiveness. Draco only ever swears when he's really upset or serious about something

Just as the fireworks start exploding in the sky above us, I reach over take Draco's hand, as well as reaching out with my other hand to take Hermione's. I know without looking that they do the same with each other.

It's a new year, and I can't help but feel like there are even more changes coming our way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special shout out to-Faith and Simon!-Thank you so much for commenting, and I'm glad you like my story! xxx


	13. Draco's Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Slight gore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)

****

**Hermione's POV**

"Do you actually understand any of these?" Kit asks me, turning his book around to show me the symbols on the page.

"Sort of," I reply distractedly.

There's a long, heavy, pause of silence and then,

"Oh, no, don't feel the need to elaborate," Kit says mock whimsically, "I don't need your friendship or guidance anymore. I've moved beyond that point now."

I roll my eyes and give Kit a small smile,

"I'm just….thinking, ok?"

Kit eyes me curiously,

"Oh yeah….mind telling me what has you so… _distracted_?"

I lean over to shove his arm playfully. If he were a normal person, not an Olympian, he probably would have fallen backwards. I'm trying hard to control my strength. But it seems the more training I go through and the longer it's been since I accepted my place as a Zanikai, the stronger I become.

It's not even the ordinary kind of strength someone would get from going to the gym every day, or that of an Olympic athlete. It's an otherworldly kind of strength. It's the strength of the Gods.

I can feel that untapped power humming through my body, especially when I'm fighting. It's an exhilarating rush when I land a blow, or out maneuver one of the other Olympians during a sparring session.

Sax has been pushing us hard to bring us all up to what he calls 'warrior standard'. I've surprised both myself, and I think everyone else, by flourishing under Sax's harsh demands on our physical skills as well our mental.

When we came back after Christmas, Eos announced that we would be starting our written and oral Symbols lessons.

I was excited to finally be learning about the symbols that mark all the walls, doors and weapons in the Zanikai training centre of Hogwarts. Apparently the symbols that Olympians use aren't exactly the same as the ones the Elementals use.

"I've just been wondering lately about the history of our kind," I confide in Kit, whispering even though there's no one else outside near the lake.

We've settled ourselves on a hill, sitting on the slightly damp grass. The sky above us is a clear blue. It's a nice day by all counts. So why do I feel such a sense of foreboding?

Kit arches a dark eyebrow at me speculatively,

"The history of our kind? What do you mean?"

I frown a little to myself and look out over the lake, collecting my strangely scattered thoughts. Then I turn back to Kit and say,

"I mean how did it all start? When did the Gods get involved with mortals? Why is there such a divide between Olympians and Demi-Gods?"

Kit's eyes widen with every word,

"Woah! That's a bit deep for a Sunday afternoon."

I shrug one shoulder and look back out over the lake again. Something definitely feels off, I'm sure of it. But I can't pin down the actual reason for my unease. It's really frustrating.

"Don't worry," I try to placate Kit, "I'm not about to go storming the Godly gates and demanding answers. Like I said, I'm just….thinking."

I hear Kit sigh beside me, but I keep my gaze averted. I don't want to see the concern in Kit's eyes.

"Anyone ever tell you that you think too much?" Kit jokes.

"Pretty much everyone I've ever known has said that to me," I tell him, my lips twist upwards into a slight smile.

"Sounds about right, you mentalist." Kit says, clearly prepared to let the subject drop. That's one of my favourite things about Kit, he never pushes too hard for information I'm not ready and willing to give.

From our spot on the hill I can see out over the whole lake. I notice right away when Draco appears from behind a tree with that timid blond haired Gryffindor…..Bevrell? No, wait, it's Neville.

I watch as the two boys walk together down next to the lake. Draco is being his usual animated self, dramatic hand gestures, joyful grinning face and all. Neville looks like he is listening intently to whatever it is Draco is yapping on about. He even appears to be pleased to be included in Draco's madness, the poor misguided sod.

Actually though….now that I think about it…..

My instincts flicker and I turn around just in time to see Harry moving towards me and Kit. I force my body to lose all of its tension. If Harry sees me all puffed up then he'll get agitated and demand to know what the problem is. I don't want to have to admit that I have no idea why I'm so tense.

Kit smiles at Harry welcomingly, and Harry even smiles slightly back. Miracles of all miracles, Kit and Harry have bonded ever since Halloween when they played detective. Against all odds they get on rather well.

It's pretty disconcerting actually, to see Harry with friends. He's never needed anyone but me and Draco before. In fact on many occasions Harry confided in me that he didn't think himself capable of having real friends.

I know it's selfish of me to feel a bit worried about losing him, but it's just because Harry is such a big part of my life. I couldn't love him any more even if he was my brother by blood instead of just circumstance.

Harry stops beside us and then moves to lower himself carefully onto the ground. He settles himself between me and Kit.

"Go on then, what are you two doing out here?" Harry asks, sliding a half way curious glance at me, and then at Kit.

"We were discussing our plans to have you kidnapped and assassinated." Kit says solemnly with a far too sombre nod.

My lips twitch up into a ghost of a smile again. Harry takes it in his stride though and arches a superior eyebrow at Kit. He says, completely nonplussed,

"Well the first flaw in that plan is the fact that you plan on kidnapping me. Why kidnap me if the ultimate goal is to have me assassinated? Why not just cut out the middle man and slit my throat while I sleep?"

Kit scoffs and replies,

"Maybe I don't want people to know you're dead. Maybe I'll have you killed, drop your body into the sea, and then tell everyone that you ran away."

"How would you explain knowing that I've run away?" Harry asks drolly, "Your plan just keeps developing more holes, Thorne."

Kit shakes his head and says,

"Oh no, because I would have you write a note before you died. I would get you to write a goodbye letter and so everyone would read it and believe me."

Kit leans back on his elbows, looking satisfied that he won the argument. If it even is an argument. I'm honestly not sure what they're chattering on about right now. Whatever it is, it sounds ridiculous. Then again, they are both quite ridiculous at the best of times, so I shouldn't be that surprised.

Harry shatters Kit's triumphant expression by saying,

"And what exactly would be your leverage for making me write the goodbye letter?"

Kit's face turns pensive and he sits up again. I watch as he fiddles with his thumbs, which is something he always does when he's thinking particularly hard about something.

"I would kidnap Hermione and threaten to feed her to vampires," Kit says finally.

"Oh, God no, don't either of you drag me into this madness," I complain valiantly, my eyes still scanning the lake.

Harry just smirks at Kit and says,

"Ah, so you're kidnapping **_two_** people now? Are you planning to assassinate Hermione as well so she doesn't reveal your evil plot?"

Kit flips his hand back and forth and replies snarkily,

"Who said anything about it being an _evil_ plot? According to the papers you're going to be the next dark lord, so, really, I'm doing the world a favour. It's basically community service to rid the world of you and your evil Pottering ways."

Of course Kit knows what the papers have been spouting is all complete rubbish. They've even started in on me now. Someone must have let it slip that an Olympian grew up with the _Dark lovers' bastard Mc Dragon master_ and _the future Lord of all evil and darkness/the wizarding world's saviour_.

I even have my own headline as well: ' **The Warrior Between Two Lords'**. The article went on to describe my unparalleled devotion to Harry, and my deep emotional connection with Draco, and their 'misguided' adoration for me in return.

The infamous and endlessly annoying reporter, Rita Skeeter, even suggested that I was playing the two boys off against each other. She said that they would go to war over me, and compared me to Helen of Troy. The mad woman made our lives sound like a real life Greek Gods tragedy. It was ludicrous even by the Daily profits standards.

I'm only eleven and the wizarding world already has me married off to either Draco or Harry. The thought is both disturbing and hilarious. Or at least that was the reaction of the two boys in question anyway. Harry just turned his nose up at the insinuations and growled something about 'incompetent vultures', and Draco pissed himself laughing so hard that he fell out of his chair.

According to Kit, a lot of Elementals actually get betrothed at birth to marry someone. Not just Pureblood's either, but half-blood's and even some muggle-borns as well. Apparently it's some kind of soul-bonding Magik tradition. Elementals take it very seriously, a lot more than muggles do.

When I start paying attention to the conversation again, Harry and Kit are still bickering good naturedly about Harry's status as an evil mastermind. I decide to interject before one of them declares duel-by-debate.

"Have you found out any more about the tithe ritual that the Desetine stone is part of?" I ask Harry, cleanly cutting through all the madness. Not that discussing tithe rituals and magik stones is exactly normal, but still. We have to draw the line somewhere.

Harry's expression immediately becomes stoic and he sits up a little straighter as well. I watch as his eyes drift down over to Draco and Neville, who are both still talking by the lake. I distantly hear Draco's infectious laughter, and it causes Harry's mouth to twitch up into a ghost of a smile.

"That is actually something I came out here to discuss with you both," Harry says dryly.

Kit's eyes widen with surprise and my curiosity peaks.

"So you really do have something new to report?" Kit asks, looking intrigued.

Harry lets the pause drag out for a while, probably to purposefully more firmly grasp our attention. But eventually Harry says calmly,

"It occurred to me, as it probably should have done from the start, that the existence of the Desetine stone inside Hogwarts and the disappearances of Padma Patil and Ariadne Dove, are quite possibly connected."

Kit and I just stare at him. But Harry continues undaunted, apparently ignoring our gaping mouths and, frankly, disbelieving looks.

"I researched all of the known tithe rituals that combine a magikal stone, children sacrifices, and mirrors."

I frown at him and ask,

"What do mirrors have to do with anything?"

Harry focuses on me for a moment and says,

"You said Ariadne started screaming into the mirror that night, and the blood message was written _on_ the mirror."

"Besides, everyone knows mirrors are creepy as hell anyway. You don't get a mirror in a horror film that doesn't want to kill you." Kit affirms with a screwed up nose, as if thinking of something distasteful.

I turn back to Harry and he shrugs,

"I thought it was worth trying, especially because of the message on the mirror. I think…I believe that Ariadne might have been trying to leave a warning for us."

Now that really makes my mind whirl,

"A warning? About what though?"

Kit seems to understand before I do, and Harry regards us both gravely.

"Like Kit said, there are so many legends about mirrors; and one constant theme I kept coming up with was stories and myths about mirrors stealing souls."

I feel something inside my mind click,

"The message on the mirror….. _'A soul for a sin'_ …..Ariadne, or whatever it was, warned us. I once read a story about a mirror that punished people who felt guilty….by making their eyes bleed. Yeah, I remember now, I found it in the school library by accident. Ari kept saying…she screamed that it wasn't her fault, like something was accusing her of doing a terrible thing."

"Wait…wait," Kit holds up his hands, a few hundred emotions flickering over his face, "Are we actually saying that a _mirror_ took Ariadne, what, because she felt guilty?"

Harry nods intently and hastens to explain,

"I thought it seemed a bit far-fetched as well. But then I found it. I found the tithe ritual that I'm almost positive is the one that uses the Desetine stone."

"But we already knew what the tithe ritual was," I say, scowling at the satisfaction on Harry's face.

Harry shakes his head at me,

"No, we knew what it was _called_. I found a whole section explaining the ritual and it's history."

"Well go on then," Kit says earnestly, "Don't keep us in suspense you ruddy _Icy bint_."

Harry rolls his eyes,

"You've been talking to Dragon." Harry's eyes stray over to where Draco is still….Dracoing about. Trust me, there really is no other word for it.

Kit grins teasingly,

"Yep, your boy is madness on a stick, you know."

"HARRY!" I exclaim indignantly, "Tell us what the tithe ritual is for!"

"Alright," Harry slides a small smirk my way, "No need to go all alpha Olympian on me."

"Oh, she would so completely crush you mate." Kit says, tilting his head towards me.

"I have no doubt," Harry says, eyeing me speculatively.

I reach over to punch his arm and he winces. Then Harry just smirks again and mouths mockingly at me 'I wuv you', making me I want to hit him again. He really is an icy bint sometimes.

"Right," Harry's expression turns serious, "According to the book I found, the tithe ritual that uses the Desetine stone is meant to provide immortality and is often used to give a lost soul a living body."

"How does it work?" Kit asks, his expression now attentive.

Harry leans in closer to me and Kit, and speaks in a lower tone than before,

"There are three elements, or 'parts', to the ritual. You need the 'stone of immortals', which I'm quite sure is the Desetine stone. You also need the mirror of Erised, which is a very old and magikal mirror that was used to lure in and capture people. It was created by 'the Fae' using the 'Soul magik'. It calls out to people's souls and completely captives them. The mirror of Erised is part of many Fae rituals because of it's unique properties and power."

"So the mirror of Erised uses people's desires and weaknesses against them to entice them into being….taken?" I say, trying to keep the horror out of my voice.

"Exactly," Harry says, "The mirror of Erised is a very dangerous device. It can even control other mirrors to further torment or entice its victims."

"Ok, that explains the mirror thing, but…..what's the third part of the tithe ritual?" Kit leans forward even more, his brow furrowing.

Harry's face closes down completely at that, his expression turning to stone before my eyes. He keeps any and all emotion out of his voice when he says,

"For the stone to 'activate' and link with the soul magik of the mirror, there must be four very….specific sacrifices. The mirror needs four souls as payment before the ritual can take place."

Kit and I stare at Harry in silence for a while, neither of us able to articulate a coherent reply to what Harry just said.

Eventually though, I manage to get out the words,

"What do you mean by 'specific sacrifices'?"

Harry's jaw twitches ever so slightly, which really means he must hate what he's about to say. It takes a lot to inspire that kind of emotion in Harry, so it has to be awful.

"The way the book described it is that the mirror needs the soul of someone who is a twin, the soul of someone who feels immense guilt, the soul of someone who feels intense fear, and finally someone whose soul has been infected by Dark Magik."

"Oh my Gods!" comes bursting out my mouth.

"That's completely mental," Kit murmurs, there's a disturbed expression on his face.

A tight ball of tension clenches even tighter inside my stomach. It's been getting worse and worse ever since Kit and I came out here. My gaze darts out over the river, searching for signs of…..something, anything….wait….what's that flying over the trees…it looks like….shadows…..

Harry nods sympathetically,

"I know. What we need to decide now is if we should-"

Harry stops speaking when I leap to my feet and hiss,

**_"No!"_ **

Then I'm running.

I don't even need to think about it. My instincts kick in and I run as fast as my legs will allow me down the hill.

I feel more than hear Kit and Harry chasing after me. Nothing matters, nothing matters but me getting down to the lake. It's my duty, I have to fight. I have to protect the Elementals.

My instincts scream at me to _kill, destroy, eradicate_!

All I can think is; Draco and Neville are about to be attacked….by **_Daemons_**.

** Harry's POV **

Never in my entire life have I felt such sickening, mind raping, heart exploding, _dread_.

I've researched enough about Olympians and what they do to recognise the signs of one of them going into warrior attack mode. Kit is soon following suit, his expression morphing into something completely inhuman.

Hermione's mouth twisted into a snarl and she sprang forward like a dangerous arachnid focusing on her prey. It only takes me a moment of blinking before I go chasing after Kit and Hermione, both of whom are moving so fast that they literally blur.

When I hear Draco's shout of pure outraged fear, my magik combines with my power to let out a mighty roar. I feel it build inside of me the closer I get to Draco. I can see ice forming all around me, sweeping over the ground and the covering the lake.

The sky appears to turn black above us and a moment later a crash of deafening thunder rumbles down from the darkness. The ice and the sky set up a perfect arena for the violence that is about to be unleashed by two Olympians and one Lord level Elemental.

The Deamons, for I have no doubt what those creatures are, do not look like I imagined. I thought them to be great demons with forked tongues and red skin. Instead they are shadows. Shadows with blood red eyes and circler mouths full of red tipped fangs. The creatures have purly white claws that are longer than my arms.

And they **_shriek_ ,** like banshees escaping from hell itself. The sound is so high pitched that it makes my ears bleed.

They are monsters. They are _terrifying_.

I am afraid of them.

I hate them for making me feel something I don't want to feel.

I will destroy every last one of those bastards if they even touch Draco. That is a promise.

There are two of the Daemons. One of them lashes out before Hermione can reach them and slashes Neville's chest. His skin is torn apart like tissue paper and blood gushes from his long, deep, wound. I distantly hear him scream as the Daemon hovers its shadow body over Neville, shrieks once more, and then begins trying to stuff itself down Neville's throat.

Neville screams and _screams_ and **_screams_**.

Draco yells in distress and attempts to aid his friend, lighting a fire ball and sending it flying at the creature. The fire just disintegrates into the shadow creature and crackles, spitting like lava.

The other Daemon arrives then and lurches forward to attack Draco. Something like rage mixed with despair coils up inside of me and I roar,

"NO!"

My power and magik reacts to the emotion and it propels my element forth from my core. The ice around us cracks and explodes, sending lethal shards of ice flying towards the Daemons.

Hermione jumps up at least five feet in the air and grabs hold of an ice shard. She wields it like a weapon and rushes at the Daemon in a blur of fury. She tackles the Daemon, slamming the ice shard into its chest and propelling them both backwards onto the ice covered lake.

They hit hard, causing the ice to splinter and break. Hermione growls like a dangerous animal and yanks the ice shard out of the Daemons chest. Liquid that looks like tar pours out of the Daemons wound, but it doesn't hinder the creature at all. The Daemon bares it's many fangs at Hermione, and my breathe catches in fear for my sister.

I blink, not able to comprehend what I'm seeing. When Hermione raises the ice shard up into the air, as if preparing a sacrifice, the ice shard appears to have morphed into a jagged blade of some kind, with a black crystal hilt. I can smell the chilling twang of magik all around us.

The Daemon lets out an almighty shriek underneath Hermione and lashes out with it's curved claws, catching Hermione's shoulder. But Hermione twists like a graceful jaguar out of the Daemon's reach. The momentum of the move throws Hermione off of the Daemon and she goes sliding painfully along the ice. I wince as her bare arm scrapes bloody on the splintered ice.

Hermione flips back onto her feet swiftly and without pause she rushes at the Daemon again. The Daemon's crimson eyes seem to burn like molten rock and it flys forward with it's fangs extended towards the Olympian. Hermione crashes into the Daemon at full speed.

Both Hermione and the Daemon fall through the broken ice.

I have to turn my attention away then, because there's nothing I can do for Hermione now. I just to trust that she knows what she's doing. I have to have faith that my sister is strong enough to survive this day.

Another cry from Draco causes that unsheathed rage inside of me to rush back to the surface. Draco is throwing fire ball after fire ball at the Daemon. He's creating a storm of fire that twists and swirls around him like a storm. More thunder crashes down from above, and I look up to see the sky burning black and mighty above us.

The Daemon is still pushing itself down Neville's throat, and the ripped up Gryffindor is still screaming this inhuman scream that tares apart my resolve to let the Olympians take care of things. I am not a hero by any means, but I will protect what is mine. Draco is mine, and he has been since the day I found him. I don't know why, but the universe, or maybe even the God's, sent Draco to me. And it's my job to protect him, my _right_.

It's taking longer than it should for the Daemon to invade Neville's body because of Draco's efforts to hinder the creature. Kit reaches them before I can, another shard of ice in his hand. Kit snarls, his face twisted into something that is pure predator. He slams the ice shard into the Daemon with a scream of anger.

Draco's tornado of fire spirals upwards, hitting the blackened clouds and twisting them into an inferno. My magik connects with his and causes my own power to rise even further. I reach a hand out towards Draco and use my telekinesis to yank him backwards towards me. Draco's body goes flying and he slams into me. His body twists as if preparing for a fight. But when he sees that it's me, Draco stops trying to escape my hold and grasps onto me.

"Where is she?" Draco demands, his pale, beautiful, face covered in dirt and blood. Neville's blood.

I look over his shoulder, catching sight of Kit still fighting blow for blow with the Daemon, who has now stopped trying to shove itself down Neville's throat. The gashes on Neville's body still look fatal though, and I wonder if he'll die before this fight is even over.

"BOLT! WHERE IS SHE?" Draco yells at me, but even so I can barely hear him over the thunder rumbling around in the sky.

I know who he means, because now that I have Draco in my arms, relatively safe, all I can think about is Hermione.

"She went down, into the water," I point at the hole in the ice.

Draco's eyes widen and he opens his mouth in a soundless scream of agonising despair. He shakes his head rapidly and starts to run. But my grip is firm and I hold him still. He fights me but I wrap my body around his and growl into his ear,

"No, Dragon. I will get Hermione, you stay go back to the school and get help."

Draco fights me even harder and twists out of my grasp. He glares at me, all pain and desperation. I put as much determination in my gaze as possible when I say,

"I can help her, Dragon, let me do this. I can't do anything useful if I'm constantly worried about you."

Draco casts a glance at Neville then and nods stiffly to me,

"Go. Bring her back alive." It's an order, and one that I will not fail.

I move then, sprinting past Draco and down to the lake. I slide on the ice, but I wrestle control over my element and the ice below obeys me. I kneel down at the edge of the jagged hole and look for dark shapes in the water. I wonder how long Hermione can hold her breathe. The thought turns my heart to stone.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Draco leaning over Neville, because of course he would never leave a friend out here alone, dying. I turn back, watching as he splays his hands out over Neville's wounds, his face set in concentration. I can only imagine that he is attempting to heal Neville, God knows if he'll succeed with so little practice and with wounds as bad as Neville's.

I force myself to concentrate on the task before me. Dead or alive, I need to get Hermione out of that fucking lake. I won't fail her, I refuse to.

I decide to trust my instincts, because right now I have nothing else to rely on. I hover my hands over the lake water and ** _will it_** with all the power in my body to **_find Hermione_**. To find my sister and bring her to me.

The water knows my desire and it hastens to obey it's master. I let pure power thrum through me, turning my veins to ice.

I clench my teeth and concentrate on my element, letting the power of the water wash over my senses. I almost sag in relief when the water snags something that feels remarkably like Hermione and starts dragging it towards the surface. I stare hard at the hole created in my ice until Hermione breaks the seal of the water and comes flying upwards. She gasps harshly, sucking in lungful's of oxygen.

I help Hermione as she drags herself out of the water and chokes on her hands and knees. In her right hand is that same strange weapon. It's clearly no longer an ice shard, but a blade. Bigger than a dagger, but smaller than a sword. There are symbols on the hilt, and on the blade, they almost appear to glow.

"The Daemon?" I ask Hermione, pushing wet hair away from her mouth and face.

"Dead." Hermione rasps, her grip on the glowing blade tightens.

I try to touch the blade in Hermione's hand, but when my skin comes into contact with it, I gasp in pain. It burns like acid. The weapon hisses dangerously at me, as if in warning. Next time it will hurt me far worse. Then I remember what Hermione once told me; only a Zanikai can wield an Archblade.

I help Hermione to her feet and we both turn to survey the scene behind us. Kit is fighting the Daemon valiantly with all the power and strength inside his body. He moves so fast that I can barely see him. But the Daemon is fast too. Kit gets a few good hits in, even one to the throat that causes the Daemon to shriek in agony, black tar spurting out from the slash. But it doesn't kill the creature, nothing but a special blade forged by the Gods will destroy a Daemon.

I feel my insides tighten when the other Daemon gets the upper hand with Kit and knocks him to the side. Kit's head comes into contact with a sharp rock and I see his neck twist in an unnatural way.

The Daemon swings around and rushes at Draco, looming over him like a cloud of chaos. It's fangs and claws extend, poised to maim and kill. A scream of fury bursts free from my mouth and I extend my hand out towards the creature.

Something inside of me...unfurls then. I feel a power unlike anything I've known before. My elemental core...splits.

It's painful, so painful that in any other circumstance I would likely have blacked out. But that is not the case now.

My elemental power attacks the Daemon at full force, but instead of water or ice, I feel the power of the wind bow to my command. A wave of air turns itself into a small tornado and it hits the Daemon in the chest. The Daemon goes flying backwards at least thirty feet.

Hermione is gone then. She moves with blurring speed once again as she goes after the remaining Daemon.

I rush over to Draco, who is still bent over a pale and dying Neville in complete concentration. That Daemon could have slit his throat and Draco wouldn't have noticed. Draco's pale eyes burn like blue fire and the black ring within his iris crackles. A slash of lightening lights up the sky and I watch as the wounds on Neville's body begin to close. Not enough though.

I look over at Hermione, watching her for a moment as she engages in battle with the Daemon.

Then I splay my hands over Neville's wounds and attempt the same thing Draco is trying to do. I put all my effort and concentration into it, trying to link my healing magik with Draco's so we'll have twice the amount of power. Under his breath Draco is whispering the words that Professor Sprout taught us to help our magik along with healing cuts.

" _Fee. Doi. Xen_."

I start murmuring the strange words too.

" _Fee. Doi. Xen_."

Over and over and over again.

" _Fee. Doi. Xen_."

We chant them together.

" _Fee. Doi. Xen_."

I don't allow anything to distract me. Even when I hear a dying shriek from the Daemon as Hermione slams the Archblade through it's head, cracking it's skull and spraying thick tar everywhere.

_I used two elements. How? Why?_

_I will tell no one._

Neville's wounds begin to close more rapidly.

" _Fee. Doi. Xen_."

Lightening cracks the sky open and splinters the darkness.

**Draco's POV**

It's been a month since the Daemon attack.

Neville is alive. Harry and I healed his wounds enough to stem the bleeding until the proper healers from the infirmary could get to him. Not long after Hermione killed the remaining Daemon, a group of Professors arrived. I think it was a bit too late to call it a rescue.

They did their best though, and they saved Neville's life, and Kit's.

Kit broke his neck, but luckily for him Olympians are not so easily killed. The blow wasn't strong enough to end his life, and with his Olympian super fast healing abilities, Kit was out of the infirmary within one week.

Neville is still in there. Even though his body is no longer broken, his mind still very much is. The Daemon stole a lot of his Cinergy during the attack, and so Neville is weak in every way at the moment. They have to keep him knocked out because every time Neville wakes up, all he does is scream. He screams and screams and screams. It's bloody awful. And heart-breaking.

The first time they woke him up once his wounds had healed, Neville screamed so loud and for so long that he permanently damaged his vocal cords. They tried to heal it whilst he was out, but if he keeps screaming, then there's a chance he'll never speak again.

It tares me up inside to see Neville this way. I'm sitting in the infirmary with him now. I come here whenever I can. Mostly I just sit here and talk to him, or read him books. I don't know if he can hear me, but I like to think that somewhere down inside that broken mind is my kind hearted friend. I'll do whatever I can to bring him back.

But the truth is, there's nothing I can really do. And that frustrates the hell out of me.

Neville has his own section of the infirmary, and so I'm mostly left alone with him.

Today I managed to snatch Walter from Dumbledore's office and I brought him down here to have a look at Neville. Walter has been around a long time, I hoped he might have some insight into how I can help Neville.

"It's fear." Walter informs me after a while of just staring at Neville's unconscious form. He's shirtless and I allow my eyes to trace the silver scars that criss cross over his chest. They almost look like a symbolic tattoo. Apparently only scars from a Daemon turn silver like that.

I look at Walter and ask,

"What do you mean?"

Walter sighs, his leather face creases up even more than usual. It's what I call his 'thinking hat' face.

"Mr Longbottom is suffering from a very intense case of post traumatic stress disorder. Having your magik ripped out of you is like having your soul stolen. It's no wonder that Neville's mind is struggling to deal with something so terrifying. He's not the first to be tortured mentally by the memories of a Daemon attack. I've known many others, especially during the war. Daemons used the chaotic time between Elementals to cause havoc."

"Did Daemons ever work for Voldemort?" I whisper, not wanting anyone to hear me say his name. I realised very quickly that no one in the wizarding world likes to talk about the war, and they especially don't want to discuss the Dark Lord. I still think 'Voldemort' is a ridiculous villain name.

Walter chuckles at that and says,

"Daemons work for no one. They are completely impartial both politically and magikally. All they care about is feeding on Cinergy."

For some reason that seems scarier to me than if they had been on Voldemort's side during the war.

"Do you think he dreams about the attack?" I say, peering a bit closer at Neville. His expression is anything but peaceful even though he's asleep.

"Most likely," Walter replies, "I'd imagine he screams so much because those memories haunt him even when he's awake." Walter sounds sympathetic, but also resigned, like he's seen such tragedies a thousand times before. Well he is flipping old, so maybe he has.

As if on cue, one of the healers, a witch earth elemental named Poppy comes walking around the corner. She smiles sweetly at me, but I know the droop to her shoulders and the apprehension in her eyes can only mean one thing.

"It's time again?" I say with a sigh.

"I'm afraid so darling," Poppy's mouth creases in displeasure. Her gentle light brown eyes sweep over Neville.

I reach over to squeeze Neville's cold, lifeless, hand and then pick up Walter. I back away enough that I'm standing at the bottom of Neville's bed. Two more healers come in then and I watch silently as they prepare to wake up Neville for the tenth time this month.

I try to remain hopeful. Maybe this time will be different than the rest. Maybe this time Neville won't scream. Maybe this time my friend will have regained his sanity.

My hopes are dashed the moment Neville opens his eyes. He opens his mouth wide and lets out a scream so shrill and so broken, that it frightens me into jerking back. I try to tell myself not to be afraid, I'm a Gryffindor for goodness sake, and this is just Neville, my friend. But the look in his eyes...so much terror. He stares off into space, like nothing else exists but the nightmares.

The healers allow it to go on for a minute more, just in case, all the while attempting to snap Neville out of it using magik and gentle, comforting words. But nothing works. Nothing penetrates the wall of fear that surrounds Neville's mind.

I even try jumping into his head to see if I can pull him out of the darkness myself. But all I see inside his mind is blank nothingness. No memories, no happy thoughts, not even bad thoughts.

Just...fear.

...

"My Dad says that some people never come back after a Daemon attack. It's like their mind is wiped completely clean." Ron says conversationally.

Katie whacks his arm and glares at him,

"Ron!" She looks worriedly at me before glaring at Ron again, "What is wrong with you?"

Ron appears completely perplexed by Katie's anger, like he has no idea what she's talking about.

"What?" he asks, scowling fiercely.

I roll my eyes and hide a smile when Katie whacks him again.

"You can't just say things like that! Neville is our friend!"

"I was just saying what my Dad told me," Ron argues, still scowling.

I decide not to interrupt their bickering, and instead I tune it out. In some ways it's actually comforting. Katie and Ron are the only normal things in my life right now.

After the Daemon attack, Dalia and Adam had a fit and Dalia insisted that we go home immediately. Once other elemental parents found out about the attack, they started pulling their children out of school. Harry, Hermione and I refused to come home. There wouldn't be any point, technically speaking Daemons could attack us anywhere. It's mine and Harry's powerful magik that drew those two Daemons to the school in the first place.

I do feel guilty about that. Neville is lying there practically brain dead and it's my fault, so of course I feel guilty. Harry obviously thinks that's rubbish, and he made me promise to stop thinking that way immediately.

Most people are back at school now though, since the terror and excitement has died down. Obviously the papers had a field day with the story, especially once they found out Harry, Hermione and me were involved. One headline proclaimed us to be 'HOGWARTS PROTECTORS' and another read 'THREE POINT DANGER MAGNET'.

It took a lot of persuading to get Dalia and Adam to let us stay at Hogwarts. We were mostly aided by the fact that all three of us came out of the attack mostly unscathed. Physically that is.

Hermione has been training even harder ever since the attack. She's like a shark that has scented blood and now she wants to hunt every last Daemon down and destroy them. She was deemed a hero by Dumbledore and punished by Eos for behaving so recklessly.

Harry has pretty much closed himself off for whatever reason. He's being even more secretive than usual, and that's really saying something considering it's _Harry_. Both him and Hermione have some secret crap going on, and for whatever reason they don't want to include me. I'm sure they think they're protecting me or something stupid like that.

I won't deny that I'm nosy about what they're hiding, but I won't force them to tell me. There'd be little point in that anyway.

Besides, I have my own secrets that I'm in no rush to share. Walter and I have been investigating my dreams, and we're almost positive that they have some link to the children who have gone missing. Walter thinks it has something to do with the Fae. Apparently he's had some dealings with them in the past. He says the Fae are dangerous and sneaky to a fault.

I think maybe the Fae are the ones that trapped him in hat form, but I can't be sure. Walter doesn't like to talk about his past that much, especially not the more serious stuff.

This morning I got a note from Hagrid, he invited me down for tea. Apparently he has something to show me.

When we reach Hagrid's house, I turn to my best friends and say,

"Alright, enough fighting you two," I point at Ron, "you need to be more sensitive about Neville," then I point at Katie, "and you need to realise that not all people are as perceptive as you." Definitely not Ron at any rate.

Katie and Ron both sputter excuses at me, but I just cross my arms and stare at them flatly.

Eventually they both bow their heads and mutter,

"Yeah, ok, sorry."

I smile slightly at them and turn around to knock on Hagrid's door. Only a few moments later Hagrid's beaming face reveals itself, his massive body taking up the entire doorway.

"'ello there. Come on in you three." Hagrid hustles me and my friends inside and closes the door behind us.

"Hey Hagrid," the three of us chorus.

"What is it you want to show me?" I ask, curiosity driving me a little bit mad now that I'm here. I think it's probably something to do with magikal creatures. I've been asking Hagrid about them pretty much nonstop ever since I got to Hogwarts. He's given me lots of books that aren't allowed in the Hogwarts library.

Hagird grins at me and I follow him over to a raging fire. Hanging over the fire is a stone pot. Hagrid, using clothes, picks the pot up and sets it down on his wood table.

Katie and Ron stand on either side of me as we gather around the table.

"I 'ave somethin' you'll love, Draco," Hagrid tells me, his eyes bright.

Hagrid lifts the lid off the pot and something inside me stirs to life. I peer in closer to have a look.

I gasp at the sight of a brilliant blue, and massive, egg inside the pot. Hagrid, still using the clothes, lifts the egg out and places on the table in front of me.

Something unknown unfurls within me and I stare in awe at the egg.

"Yer jus' in time. I think he's ready to 'atch." Hagrid says, sounding jovial.

My hand suddenly reaches out on instinct and I touch the shell of the egg. It has black veins running through it and seems to pulse with life. The shell should burn me, but since I'm a fire wizard, heat doesn't react the same way that it does with everyone else.

The moment my skin comes into contact with the egg, a sense of knowing floods me and the creature inside moves. The egg starts cracking and quaking and shuddering.

I watch, still awed, as the creature eventually breaks free of it's egg, sending bits of shell flying off in all directions. Distantly I hear Ron shout and Katie yelp, but nothing else can penetrate the bond I now have with this...dragon.

The baby dragon is such a vivid blue. I've never seen a colour like that before, it's incredible. There are patches of black all over it's body as well.

I reach forward with my hand again, and I'm somewhat surprised when the baby dragon lets me run my fingers over his stomach. The extraordinary creature even leans forward and presses it's black nose against my hand.

Black as ink eyes blink up at me and suddenly I feel the dragon's magik trying to enter my mind. I allow it in with hesitation and my magik sings. The dragon snorts in contentment as our minds link. We connect on every level and I feel our bond shift into place. The dragon recognises me as a familiar. A friend to his kind. Magikal cousins even.

My magik melds with his and our minds sync together perfectly.

This dragon is now mine. I am now this dragon's wizard. He belongs to me. And I, possibly even more so, belong to him.

I know exactly what to call him.

The dragon sneezes and vibrant blue flames erupt from his nose and mouth. The blue fire is cold, like ice, and it tickles my hand. I'm sure it would horribly burn anyone else.

I've read enough about dragons to recognise this one's breed. It's a very rare species of dragon called Falconiform Wyvern, otherwise known as the Frostbite Wyvern. They are infamous for being the only breed of dragon that breathes ice cold fire.

I stroke the dragon gently, our magik still linking up and mixing together. I whisper to my baby dragon,

" _Hello Azure. Mine. My dragon."_

Azure rumbles back in that language I know only I can understand,

" _Hello Draco. Mine. My wizard."_


	14. Truths and Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Character death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)

** Hermione's P.O.V **

"No, keep your stance steady, you're putting too much weight on your left side." Ajax admonishes, his fists still raised defensively to ward off an attack.

From me.

I puff out a frustrated breathe and try to move the way Ajax has been teaching me to for the last two hours. It seems that no matter what he does, or how he tries to explain it, I keep ending up in the same position; pinned beneath him.

When I decided to take Ajax up on his offer to give me more private training, I had thought we'd be moving on to more advanced fighting techniques. But we've been training for weeks now and he still has me going through all the basics.

_And I keep failing at the basics, so maybe he has a point about me not being ready for the more dangerous stuff._

I tell the reasonable part of my brain to shut up for a minute so I can concentrate on kicking the crap out of Ajax. For once.

I shift my feet, trying to better my position. Ajax watches me with those steely silver eyes of his. Right now they look darker than usual as he concentrates on defending his face and body from my harsh attacks. His expression appears to be set in stone, as if he couldn't care less what my next move will be. After all this time though, I know better. Ajax is like a resting feline, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

Ajax and I have moved out of the fighting ring and now we're sparring on the mats covering the training room floor. My feet are bare, and so are his. We've also removed our jackets and now both of us are wearing just our tight black tank tops and black training bottoms.

I bring my leg forward and aim a swift kick at his stomach, but faster than I can process, Ajax grabs hold of my ankle with one hand and throws me backwards. I manage to twist my body at the last second so I don't go down onto my arse. Instead I land in a crouch, and after taking half a second to adjust to the position, I throw myself back into the fight.

I aim another few kicks at Ajax's stomach and thighs, never allowing Ajax the chance to grab me again. In a real fight I know full well that Ajax could beat me easily. Well, I didn't know that before, but after training with him for a few weeks, and watching him fight others, I know how skilled he is.

Ajax even lasted in a fight with Sax yesterday. It was incredible to watch them spar. They were both so fast and precise and undeniably ferocious, it was like watching two gladiators do battle. I was captivated by it, their movements and the barely restrained power behind those movements.

No matter how fast I am, or at which angle I come at him from, Ajax always manages to deflect my kicks. I dance backwards suddenly when Ajax's fist seemingly comes out of nowhere and jabs me in the ribs. I let out a grunt as pain explodes in my side.

I know full well that if he had wanted to he could have just broken my rib cage with that hit. But since this is meant to be mostly friendly sparring, Ajax is holding back most of his real strength so he doesn't seriously injure me.

It makes me angry again, and my frustration must show on my face because Ajax actually says,

"Concentrate Granger. Don't let your emotions take over. If you do then you've already lost."

That only serves to make me even angrier. I try to swallow the fury that erupts inside of me, but when Ajax lands another two hits to my side and a harsh kick to my stomach that I just know would bruise if I weren't an Olympian, my temper flares.

I'm unable to stop myself as I aim an almost clumsy hit towards Ajax's face. Ajax doesn't even let my fist grace his jaw before he grabs hold of my arm and twists it violently, wrenching me around so my back hits his chest. Within the same moment Ajax uses his ankle to hook around one of mine and takes my legs out from under me.

I go crashing down to the mat with another grunt of pain. I make a token struggle for escape, but Ajax pins me with infuriating ease, his arms locking me in place beneath him. I think I even growl at him at one point like an angry wildcat.

Ajax holds me still for another few, long moment, probably just to make a point. I can feel the raw, animalistic power strumming through his tightly muscled body. There isn't a scrap of wasted flesh on this boy. I know that for sure after weeks of being pinned like this by Ajax.

When he releases his hold, I let out a huff of air. Embarrassment floods through me.

I roll away from Ajax and lay on my back, staring up at the old brick ceiling. This part of the school is so different to the Elemetals part. Everything with the elementals is crystal, marble or glass. For us Zanikai's in training, our side of the school is a lot more like an abandoned castle from the middle ages.

I feel more than see Ajax move to lie down next to me. We don't touch, but I can feel his presence, it's like an instinct that lay dormant all my life. But after being around my own kind for so many months, that instinct has now become very much active. I suppose it's useful in a way, to know when others with the blood of the God's are close.

There's a moment of silence where we both just lay there, not feeling the need to talk. That's the first thing I learnt about Ajax when we started spending more time together, he doesn't just talk to fill the silence. I don't mind really, in fact I'm used to it because of Harry and all the years I've spent around him. I wonder if Ajax's reasons for staying quiet are the same as Harry's.

I wish I could ask, but I won't, because apart from anything else, it really isn't my business. Unlike most people I don't think it's my automatic right to know everything about another person just because I want to know it. It was Harry who taught me that. He showed me, subtly, through the years that truly knowing someone, and all their secrets, is a privilege of trust that must be earned.

The wizarding world should really take that lesson to heart one of these days. Maybe then the daily profit would stop printing vulgar rubbish about me and my family.

When Ajax does finally break the silence, it's with a question that I didn't really expect from him.

"How did it feel when you killed those Daemons?" His voice still holds that rough, broken quality to it, like he's spent his whole life swallowing shards of glass and jagged metal.

I'm almost positive that his voice isn't natural, that he wasn't born with it. But then, what could cause someone's voice turn into something that sounds so painful?

Again, not my business. But I hope he tells me one day.

That's all you can really hope for from people, that one day they'll trust you enough to reveal their true selves, by choice. There's no point in trying to take it, because it would never be real. You would only ever get half of a person if you tried to take who they really are by force.

I allow myself time to think about Ajax's question. It's the first time someone's asked me that. When the professors all came to our 'rescue' after the Daemon attack, I was immediately swept away by Eos. She was furious with me for taking on not one, but two, Daemons.

At the time I was still coming down from the high of my natural Olympian killer instincts. I'd never felt such a rush of power and control before. As soon as I saw those Daemons going after two Elementals, I knew I had to act. I had to protect them and destroy the Daemons before they could attack anyone.

Everything was so clear in that moment. I knew exactly what I had to do, and I had complete confidence in myself. I didn't doubt for a moment that I could have killed those Daemons. It would be a lie to say that I even considered going back for help first. I was working on pure instinct.

Now, after months of extra training, I've realised just how ridiculous I'd been that day. The fact that I killed those Daemons was due to the fact that they were very young and inexperienced and, really, a hell of a lot of luck on my part. It certainly wasn't because I'm just that skilled. Trust me on that. I have a very long way to go before I'm ready to hunt Daemons professionally.

Eos and Sax peppered me with questions when I sat in Eos' office after the attack. They asked about the Daemons, what happened, what I did, what happened to the elementals, how was I able to kill them ect ect. But they never once asked me how I felt about it.

They were, however, fascinated by the fact that an ice shard became an Archblade. Eos explained to me that only Zanikai's who have proved themselves worthy to the Gods could possibly call an Archblade forth the way I had. Since I haven't proved myself in any such way, it left Eos and Sax both quite baffled.

Kit says it's because I'm a speshul snowflake. I really hope not, the last thing I want is to become the Mary-Sue of my own life.

I turn to look over at Ajax and let my gaze linger on his face for a while. He has strong facial features and a squared jaw. Ajax's dark blond hair has been cut short since the beginning of the year and now it curls loosely on the top of his head in large golden rings. Even so, there's actually nothing pretty about Ajax. I do think he really is quite…attractive. Not beautiful like Draco or darkly handsome like Harry, but more unconventually attractive. Rugged even.

I'm not usually one to get caught up in anyone's looks, I mean I'm eleven, so it's not like I've ever put that much thought into it anyway. But when I look at Ajax, all I see is warrior. And for some reason I find that very appealing in an odd way that I can't quite place yet.

"It felt…." I let out another long breathe, trying to find the right words to answer Ajax's question, "right. Destroying those Daemons felt natural. Almost like breathing."

Ajax appears to digest that for a while, his silver eyes taking scanning my face thoughtfully.

"You never hesitated?" He asks.

I frown, but the answer comes quite easily,

"No. Not even for a second."

I really didn't. Every part of me wanted to kill those Daemons, and I haven't felt bad about it since the attack either.

I can never tell Draco that, he'd start to worry about me. He'll think I'm losing too much of my humanity or something. The last thing I want is for Draco to start sympathising with Daemons on principle.

Besides, Draco's got enough to worry about at the moment, what with Neville still being in his fear coma. According to Draco, every time they've tried to wake him up in the last few months, Neville hasn't been able to stop screaming.

If anything, the thing I feel guilty about is not getting there in time to save Neville. It's a failure I'll have to live with forever, especially if Neville dies, which I still very much possible despite his healed wounds.

Draco has been tirelessly searching for a way to help Neville. I think he's read just about every book in the Hogwarts library about magikal comas and Daemon attacks. Not that there's much about Daemons actually written in the Elemental world of literature. I asked Sax why that is, and he just replied 'Daemons are Zanikai business'.

But Draco is determined to save his friend, and I know a stubborn and passionate Draco is definitely a force to be reckoned with.

Of course, then there's the whole dragon thing. Don't even get me started on that mess of madness. I'm keeping myself well out of it. Despite what my past actions might indicate, I do in fact have a sense of self preservation. Unlike my insane magikal-creature-loving brother.

"I didn't hesitate either." Ajax says abruptly, his voice is so low that I can barely hear him.

I wait for him to continue because I have no idea what he's talking about.

After a few more moments of silence Ajax takes the hint and explains,

"When I killed Daemons for the first time I didn't hesitate. It was like there was something inside of me that…..just knew. I knew I was looking at real evil, and that it had to be destroyed."

I try not to sound idiotically shocked when I ask,

"How old were you?"

"Nine." Ajax says, his voice now drifting back into its usual gravely monotone.

This time I'm unable to hide my astonishment. Nine. He was _nine_. That's unbelievable. But I know Ajax wouldn't lie. He's not the type to make things up just for the sake of it. He also isn't the type to lie to impress anyone. For the most part Ajax appears ambivalent to the opinions of everyone. I can see it in the confident way he moves, and the sombre way he looks at people.

"Daemons attacked you when you were nine?" I ask, sounding a bit breathless even to my own ears.

Ajax's expression turns from neutral to hard as granite in the space of a few seconds. His silver eyes turn to molten metal. I can feel the anger and pain and wrath in his voice when he says,

"No. They attacked my parents."

I lay there, stunned, for a seemingly very long minute. I am unable to look away from Ajax, his emotions for once are visible beneath his usual cold mask of indifference.

"Daemons attacked your parents?" I say, not knowing how else to respond.

Ajax sighs heavily, his jaw tight with restrained rage.

"I was asleep when the Daemons first came into our house. My parents were downstairs. I woke up when I heard my mum screaming. I didn't feel afraid at first, just confused. I got up and went downstairs to see what was wrong. When I saw the Daemons draining my parents of their Cinergy I just…stared. I think my father was already dead by then. His eyes were blank and glassed over. I always remember that part first. My mother was still struggling, and she caught sight of me standing on the stairs. She screamed even louder. I think she was trying to say my name."

Ajax swallows hard, and I give him a moment to compose himself again before continuing.

"That's when everything changed inside me. I went for them, the Daemons. My mother kept an Archblade in the house. My Godfather gave it to her, he's a Zanikai. I knew where it was and I ran faster than I ever thought was possible to get it. The Daemons noticed me by then and I felt them chase after me. I saw what they did to my parents. They didn't just kill them, they stole their Cinergy, their souls, and then…tore their bodies apart. There was so much _blood_ _….I never felt such black fury before. I killed them. I killed them all."_

_I don't regret it. That moment made me. It made me this. Who I am. A fighter._

I hear the words, but he doesn't need to say them.

"I don't remember what happened afterwards. It's all just blank. My Godfather was the one who found me. He said when he came in I was kneeling between my dead parents, covered in red and black blood, and screaming. I screamed for so loud and for so long that….well, I'm sure you can hear the result." Ajax brings hand up to press two fingers down on his throat.

A harsh shiver courses through my body. His voice. What must it be like to constantly be reminded of something so horrific every time you speak? No wonder he doesn't talk much.

"Who do you live with now?" I ask him. I don't feel the need to ask anything else about what happened that night. He's revealed so much to me. In fact this is the most I've ever heard him talk before. I don't know if I deserve that level of trust, and to be honest, I also don't think I could handle any more details right now.

Ajax smiles slightly at me, and I see the gratitude in his eyes. He obviously didn't want to delve any deeper either. Although that does make me wonder why he brought it up in the first place.

"My Godfather. I don't have any other family really." Ajax tells me, but he doesn't appear upset by that fact.

"You like him, your Godfather I mean?" I watch Ajax's expression as it shifts back into something more normal and calm.

"I respect him. He's a very well accomplished Zanikai and he's always supported my choice to train as one."

"What's his name?" I ask, obviously I won't know him personally, but I have read quite a lot about other infamous Zanikai's.

Ajax smiles again at that and says,

"Actually, I think he's related to your brother, Draco."

"Really?" I ask, my eyebrows shooting up.

Ajax nods,

"Yes. His name is Regulas Black. He's part of the House of Black. Technically he would be Head of the House of Black if he weren't an Olympian. I guess that honour will fall to Draco when he comes of age."

Oh Gods, it scares me to think of Draco being the Head of anything, let alone an old and noble Wizard family.

"That's…..interesting." I allow reluctantly.

Ajax gets up then and holds out his hand to me. I look up at him questioningly.

"Feel like giving it another go?" Ajax asks, obviously referring to our training.

I groan inwardly, but reach out to take Ajax's offered hand. I let him pull me up and say,

"Alright, but no going easy on me this time. I need to know how badly I'm doing before I can actually get better."

Ajax actually smirks at little at that,

"Give me a real fight and I'll start fighting back with my full strength, Granger."

I narrow my eyes at him and instantly ready my stance,

"Shut up Wild and hit me."

** Harry's P.O.V **

I wait outside his office for a moment, straightening out my collar and preparing my words once more. I need to get this right, because I know I'll only get one chance with this man.

I take another deep breath and roll my shoulders back. When I feel at least half way assured of my imminent success in what I'm about to do, I lift my hand knock on the office door.

There are a few moments of deathly silence and then I hear a disgruntled voice call out,

"Come in if you have something to say worth my valuable time. Otherwise, leave now."

I swallow hard and open the door, letting myself in and entering the office of Professor Snape. I find him sitting amongst piles of books and other equipment I've seen him use for our Hallucigen lessons this year.

Professor Snape looks up from the papers he had obviously been marking and his expression becomes tight with irritation.

"Potter…well don't just stand there wasting oxygen, tell me what you want."

I clear my throat and then despise myself for it. I do not want to sound nervous. I want to sound confident and sure of myself. If I don't then Professor Snape will never even consider agreeing to my proposition.

I stand my ground and say carefully,

"Professor Snape, Sir, I've come to ask for the chance to study more advanced Hallucigen magik."

Professor Snape regards me for a few moments, his dark eyes scrutinising me with almost painful precision.

"That is what next year is for, Mr Potter. To learn more. In fact that is rather the point of coming back to school each year. Hogwarts isn't just a daycare centre for young Elementals."

I have to stop myself from snapping something back at him. It won't help to get angry or frustrated, that will only fuel Professor Snape's dislike of my existence in his space.

"I understand, Sir. But I meant more that I would like…private tutoring sessions. From you." I say, schooling my expression into something mostly bland, but with mild interest attached to it. I do not want to make it seem like I don't value his tutelage.

Professor Snape's eyes actually widen a little bit at that. If he weren't a Slytherin I'd say he looked surprised. But Slytherins never show something as vulgar as surprise, especially not in the presence of other people.

That's something I learned quickly from my Slytherin friends. I studied the way they behave in certain situations, both private and social. Then I tried to apply those reactions and behaviours to my own. It was more difficult than I would have thought to immerse myself completely in the mind of a Pureblood Slytherin. Well, I wasn't raised into it, so I'm bound to struggle at least a bit in that area. But eventually I managed to shape my whole being into something almost wholly different from what I had been before.

I didn't approach Professor Snape before now because I was too busy keeping an eye on Dumbledore, Qurriel and Professor Snape himself. I didn't want to get myself involved with one of them just in case I found out something unpleasant regarding their involvement in the tithe ritual clearly taking place within Hogwarts' grounds.

But after finding out that I have the capability to control more than one element, I thought it prudent that I find a mentor of some kind. I need someone who can guide me, and someone who won't be taken in my fame, or intimated by my power. The only person I know who could fit that description is sitting in front of me right now.

Professor sits forward over his desk and peers into my eyes with somewhat stark intensity. He gives nothing away about what he is feeling and I suppress the urge to prob with my mental ability. It is more than likely that Professor Snape has strong protective walls around his mind. Although I am naturally skilled, I'm also not arrogant enough to believe that my skills rival Professor Snape.

I wish to learn from this man. The only Professor who seems to share my concerns about Qurriel. I watched him confront Qurriel once again after the Xenta game last week. I have deducted from their conversation that Qurriel is definitely involved in the tithe sacrifice ritual somehow.

But it's not like I can just go up and interrogate Qurriel, and I can't go to any other Professor with the information I've gathered because I have no real physical proof. It would be my word against Qurriel, and I don't trust Dumbledore to properly investigate even if he did believe me.

Hermione, Kit and I have discussed possibilities many times over the last few months. I thought about bringing my closest Slytherin friends, Pansy and Blaise, into the fold also. But I concluded that they just couldn't be trusted. Not yet.

Then again, I also haven't told Draco anything about the tithe ritual or the Desetine stone. But that's not because I don't trust him. Of course I trust Draco. I trust him more than anyone else in my life. However, it was mutually agreed upon by myself and Hermione that Draco be kept out of this. Potentially the situation could become dangerous, or more so than it already has done.

Two children have already been taken. A third is most likely to follow. And then the last. A child marked by darkness. Even the thought causes a cold fist to clench inside my chest.

Finally, after a long, calculated stare off, Professor Snape simply arches a dark eyebrow and says,

"You have shown somewhat passable skills in Hallucigen magik." His tone suggests that is not a compliment, merely an observation. The day Professor Snape actually pays me a real compliment I begin to worry about his mental health. Since the beginning of the year, Professor Snape has calmed down from his initial reaction to my existence. He no longer seems to hate me, and his attitude has been no more hostel with me than with anyone else.

I believe the only reason for that is my continued dedication to study and preform Hallucigen magik. I haven't tried to hide my vast interest in teh subject from anyone, least of all our Hallucigen professor.

Still, I know he looks at me sometimes. When he thinks I'm not paying attention I can feel his gaze on my back. I'm very much convinced that he knew my parents. Maybe he was their friend in school. Or their way, I suppose I shall have to dig for information on my parents from him as well. But that goal is secondary to having him agree to become mentor. He must realise that someone with power as strong as mine needs a more experienced wizard to advise me.

Otherwise I feel I may fall victim to a severe lack of control over my powers. I would hate to destroy my reputation further by becoming the Lord level wizard who has no control over his magik and element. I don't think that would go down very well with the wizarding world.

Professor Snape continues in a more subdued tone,

"But I expect more than passable achievement from a student who is clearly capable of it."

I reply when it becomes clear that Professor Snape is doubting my commitment.

"I would very much appreciate the opportunity to shadow you, Sir. I believe your skills in Hallucigen are far superior to those of anyone else that I might meet in the wizarding world."

"Vanity is not a weakness of mine, Mr Potter. If you are looking to charm me with a charismatic attitude and a 'sincere' smile, then you are going to be sorely disappointment by the outcome of this meeting."

Inwardly, I curse myself. Of course it would take more than a few compliments to sway the Head of Slytherin house. I can imagine may Slytherin students before me have attempted the same tactic. And most likely failed.

But Professor Snape hasn't thrown me out of his office yet, so that must mean something.

"I apologise, Sir. Clearly I misspoke. I was not attempting to flatter you, I was merely stating the fact as I see them at this point in time. Again I would like to ask for the chance to be mentored by you. No tricks or manipulations. Just an honest request."

"Mr Potter, I can see your Gryffindor-like boldness is very much intact. I did wonder, despite your apparent Slytherin personality. Your father was very much the same way inclined." Professor Snape says, his tone dry, and maybe a little bit amused. "But 'tricks and manipulations' will indeed be part of your Hallucigen lessons, so I would not suggest disregarding them if you hope to further your education in my subject."

I can't help a slight smirk at that,

"Of course, Sir. Although I will attempt to keep my Gryffindor tendencies to a minimum. There is already a Gryffindor in my family, and I think one is quite enough." My mind briefly conjures up the image of Draco and his new Dragon companion. I hold back a groan. Trust Draco to bond with a Dragon.

No one is pleased about the development, least of all Dalia and myself. My adopted mother has requested that I keep an extra special eye on Draco and his Dragon.I was stunned when Dumbledore declared that Draco could actually keep the Dragon.

Honestly, I could curse Hagrid, what in the world was he thinking getting Draco a **_Dragon_**?

Professor Snape's expression turns wry when he says,

"Yes, Mr Black does seem rather a lot to handle." _Oh, you have no idea_ _._ "He also appears intent on setting something on fire at least once during every one of my lessons."

I hide a wince at that. Yes, despite Draco's usual control over his power, when he concentrates too hard using his mental magik, things do have a tendency to burst into flames.

"Life with Draco has always been...interesting." I allow, not really willing to admit anything else about my feelings towards Draco. I'm not even sure I could describe my connection to Draco using words.

Professor Snape regards me for another few moments before saying,

"Are you quite sure that having me as a mentor is something you want, Mr Potter? I will not tolerate half measures. I will expect you to dedicate yourself to our sessions and follow my instructions without complaint."

I grin inwardly, but on the outside I simply give a serious nod and say firmly,

"I am more than willing to do whatever is required of me, Sir. I truly want to advance my understanding and skill in Hallucigen magik."

I don't even have to pretend to be sincere this time because it's all true.

Professor Snape watches me for a long while after that, and I fight not to squirm uncomfortably, knowing that he will be watching for my discomfort. I have no doubt that he will use my weaknesses against me during our sessions to test me.

"You will be here at six o'clock on Friday evening for our first session. If you are even a minute late then that will end our sessions immediately, understood?" Professor Snape says, his eyes hard.

I do allow a small twist of my lips then and I say,

"Understood. Thank you, Sir."

The chime of victory rings inside my head.

** Draco's P.O.V **

_Dear Draco,_

_Thank you for writing to me regarding the news of your bond with the rare breed of Dragon, the Falconiform Wyvern. I have to admit that my work in Romania is somewhat limited by the strict Dragon laws imposed by most magikal Gounvernments. I mostly deal with more common Dragons such as the Antarean and Brimstone species. We often find such Dragons in desert areas. Of course there are many of species that I have dealt with in the time I've been out here, and from your letter I can tell that you are interested in all Dragons. _

_But then, you are a Black heir and therefore a natural born Dragon Lord by blood. That is what allowed you to bond with your Dragon in the first place._

_Hagrid has informed me of your interest in magikal creatures in his letters. I would be more than willing to discuss any questions you may have, especially about Dragons._

_I'm also very interested in the nuances of your bond. If you wish to continue our correspondence then I would be excited to share my knowledge with you about any Dragons I've been in contact with. But for now I'm sure you want to know about your own Dragon. Azure is a very appropriate name for a Frostbite Wyvern. I've never seen a Falconiform Wyvern myself, as they are very rare. Rumoured to be extinct by some actually. My knowledge about them is limited, but I'll tell you what I do know._

_Falconiform Wyverns are normally shy creatures. However, when approached, they often feel threatened, and the flames along their bodies leap higher. Females tend to be smaller than males, though Falconiform Wyverns are typically rather large overall. They use their size to their advantage by hunting smaller Dragons. The Falconiform's graceful, swooping dives are said to resemble birds of prey. Falconiforms are largely solitary dragons that only meet in order to breed. They are also, as you know, the only species of Dragon to breathe ice cold fire. That fire is usually blue in colour._

_I'm afraid that is as far as my personal knowledge goes about Falconiform Wyverns, but my superiors have far more experience than I do so I will ask them for any additional information. It might also be a good idea to research your bond. I believe the Black library is quite substantial and they are very likely to have books about Dragon Lords and their bonds with Dragons._

_Good luck with your Dragon, I look forward to hearing from you._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Charles Weasley (But please call me Charlie, only mother calls me Charles. Oh and the twins, but I'm sure they only do that to be irritating. I'm sure you know what they're like by now as you're in Gryffindor.)_

_Dear Charlie,_

_Hi! Thank you so much for responding to my letter, I'm sure you're pretty busy in Romania. I think it's really wicked that you work with Dragons! Dragons are amazing, I've read everything I could get my hands on about them. Unfortunately the Hogwarts library doesn't have many books that go into details about Dragons. Next time I'm in Diagon Alley I'll have to stock up._

_I've asked Professor Dumbledore about the Black family libraries like you suggested. He said he would get me access to it as soon as possible. Apparently even Dumbledore doesn't know much about Dragon Lords and the bond they have with Dragons. I think it's supposed to be a sort of secret family thing. You know, Pureblood traditons and all that crap._

_Um...no offense. I know your family is Pureblood, but Ron says you don't really go in for all that superiority stuff. I wasn't raised by Wizards, let alone Pureblood ones, so all I know about Elemental culture is what I've read and what my friends have told me._

_I don't know all that much about my Black heritage either. I suppose I'll have to learn since I'm the heir. I'm not sure if my ancestors would approve of me though. From what I can tell, the House of Black is pretty old pureblood family, and I'm sort of...weird. I mean, that's what Harry and Hermione always tell me anyways._

_Sorry, getting off topic a bit. I just wanted to let you know that I would really love to discuss Dragons and other magikal creatures. Actually I was wondering what you know about Fae. I've tried asking Hagrid but he's pretty cagey about them. He just says they're dangerous creatures. All the books about Fae I've been able to get a hold of haven't really been all that helpful either. I know you studied magikal creatures at Hogwarts, so anything you know would be helpful._

_I'm also interested in Goblins. Do you know anything about their political motivations? Do they work for wizards, or are they completely independent? I've written a letter to Gringgotts, asking the Goblins some questions, but of course I can't expect them to answer some random child. I know from my research that they are very secretive creatures. Their magik sounds impressive though, if a little frightening._

_Anyway, if you want to know about my bond with Azure, then I have no problem telling you. To be honest though it's hard to explain in words. I can feel Azure inside my head, but not like he's invaded it, more like he's become part of me. Our magik is linked too. I feel more balanced than before, as we can communicate telepathically with ease. It's still early days, so I'm working things out as I go for now until I can find out more._

_What's it like working in Romania? What kind of Dragons do you work with apart from Antarean and Brimstone? Are Dragons considered dark magikal creatures everywhere? I definitely got that impression from the British ministry. I got a letter from the minister's office asking that I register my bond with Azure. Do you think I should, because I'm not so sure it's a good idea? Azure doesn't think so either. _

_Thanks again for responding and please do let me know anything you find out about Falconiform Wyverns._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Draco Black_

I read my letter to Charlie Weasley one more time just to make sure I didn't miss anything, then I put it in an envelope and hand it over to Ying.

"Take this to Charlie Weasley, boy. Be careful, it's a long trip." I give Ying another treat before he hoots happily and flies away.

It's been an insane few months since I bonded with Azure. Hagrid, of course, couldn't have been more pleased. Katie appeared quite horrified by the situation, whereas Ron couldn't stop talking about how wicked it was that I'd bonded with a real live Dragon right in front of him.

Katie still thinks I'm mad, but at least she trusts me enough to know what I'm doing. Even if I kinda don't. As Harry pointed out. In fact he's told me how unprepared I am to bond with a Dragon at least thirty times in the last few months. I'm hoping he'll come around before I'm forced to throw a fire ball at his face.

Dalia wasn't best pleased either to be fair. Although I think most of that is due to her initial shock that Dragons exist in the first place. Adam thinks it's brilliant. He didn't say that to me in front of Dalia though, for fear of incurring her wraith. Apparently the pregnancy mood swings have hit big time back home. Adam has always been slightly afraid of Dalia, but now he isn't sure what will and won't set her off at any given time.

I asked if he felt like he had to walk around on eggshells all the time. Adam replied that it's more like he's living in a house made of broken glass. And he's always barefoot. Metaphorically I mean.

The way Adam tells it, he's living in a mad house with a grizzly bear. The way Dalia tells it, Adam is a drama queen of the highest order. And a idiot who can never sodding remember not to put empty bottles and cartons back into the fridge when he finishes them off. Or to replace toilet rolls. Or put his dirty clothes in the laundry basket.

I'm glad the baby is due around the time we finish our first year at 'll mean that we get a whole summer at home with the new baby before we have to go back to school.

I go from sending my letter to meet Katie and Ron. We're going down to Hagrid's hut so I can visit with Azure. I don't like to be away from him too long. I know Azure misses me when I'm gone.

I've already been to see Neville today. There's still no change. I've done so much research about Daemon attacks, but all I can find are short references to Daemon survival comas. Hardly anyone escapes a Daemon attack alive, so no one knows much about them. Since there's no real way to trap them, Elementals haven't been able to study the dangerous creatures.

"Who do you think would win in a fight between Professor McGonagall and a Rhino?" Ron asks far too thoughtfully as we walk through the grounds towards Hagrid's.

Katie gives Ron a look that quite clearly states 'you are such a moron and I can't believe we're friends'. Her amber eyes are just full of disapproval and exasperation. Although that is pretty much her reaction to every word that comes out of Ron's mouth.

"Professor McGongall," I say with complete conviction, "She's tough as nails. I bet Professor McGongall would put any Rhino in his place."

Ron nods along in easy agreement,

"But what about a fight between Professor Snape and a dinosaur?"

"There are no dinosaurs." Katie points out tiredly, obviously figuring out that this will actually be a real conversation between the three of us.

"But if there _were_ dinosaurs, you think Professor Snape would fight one? Is their existence the only obstacle in the way of a Snapy/Dino smackdown battle." I tease with a small grin.

Katie hits my arm in retaliation and snips,

"You know that's not what I meant, Dray."

"But seriously though, who would win that fight?" Ron asks again, looking at me earnestly.

I shrug and say,

"I'm pretty sure Professor Snape would be able to destroy any and all dinosaurs just by glaring at them. They'd explode from the glaratude."

" _Glaratude_?" Katie practically shrieks in dismay, "No, no, **_no_**." She shakes her head determinedly, "Look, I'll put up with insane Dragon bonds and Daemon comas and ridiculous conversations about dinosaurs, but I _refuse_ to descend into the madness of making up words. There are about a billion words out there that already exist, pick one of those."

There's a long pause between the three of us then. I try to keep myself from snickering as I think Katie might strangle me if I do laugh. Ron looks thoroughly chastised as he fiddles with his ring.

But when the silence gets too much I can't stop myself from saying,

"Well, technically, we aren't talking about _dinosaurs_ specifically. We're actually discussing their ability to take on a powerful wizard." And because I'm an annoying prat at heart, I add, "Also, all words are made up, Kat. That's kind of where they come from."

Katie gives me her mighty mouse stare and I fight the instinct to tuck and roll away from the angry female in front of me. I've learnt my lesson living with both Dalia and Hermione.

Don't mess with clever women. They _will_ destroy you.

If you have made the mistake of angering one then there are only two options. Option one, you need to run away as far and as fast as you possibly can. Option two, you have to die. Just drop dead and pull a possum. Those are the only ways to escape their wraith, I promise you.

"You are on thin ice, Draco Sirius Black!" Katie warns, poking her finger at my chest.

I frown at her,

"Sirius?"

Katie huffs impatiently,

"Yes. That's your middle name."

It is?

"It is? How do you even know that?" I ask in confusion.

That earns me a heft scowl,

"Dray, didn't you read the Black family tree book I gave you _months_ ago. It has your full name in there. You were automatically added when you were born."

Oh.

"Um….of course I read it." Lie. "I was just….testing you." Even worse lie.

Katie isn't buying it. Obviously. You'd have to be some kind of idiot to-

"You read it?" Ron says in disbelief, "I thought you said you weren't going to because you don't care about your Black heritage that much."

Ah, Ron.

"How can you not care?" Katie frowns at me, "It's your blood heritage. For thousands of years the Black's have been a powerful and influential family. They have so many traditions. You can't throw all that knowledge and history away."

I try to keep from sighing heavily. It's not Katie's fault. She was raised in a Light Pureblood family. From birth it's probably been hammered into her that family and tradition are important. Whereas I've had it hammered into me how to use the dishwasher. We come from completely different backgrounds, I can't expect her to understand my perspective as I know it seems so alien to her.

"Don't panic, Kat, I'm not throwing anything away. If you want then I'll read the family tree thingy, alright." I try to placate my friend.

Katie doesn't look happy that I referred to an a thousand year old text as a 'thingy', but she relents and smiles at me again anyway.

When we reach Hagrid's hut, Azure is already sitting on a log outside. He's grown a bit in the last few months. His electric blue scales seem to glow in the dim light of the evening. We won't be able to stay long, unless I can convince Hagrid to let me sleep over with Azure. I've done it once or twice since Azure and I bonded.

I feel Azure's happiness at my arrival through our connection, and his magik sparks against my own. My element burns inside my core, and I feel it fighting to be let lose. I struggle to rein it in, not wanting to set Hagrid's hut on fire by accident.

" _Azure, did you have a good day with Hagrid?_ " I ask Azure, thrilling at the deep tenor of my voice. Speaking in Dragon language always makes my voice change like that.

" _My wizard! Your half giant friend knitted me a jumper!"_

" _What?"_ I look over at Hagrid, who is happily tending to his vegetable garden.

Katie and Ron go inside to make some tea for us all and I sit down on a log next to Azure. I reach my hand out and touch Azure's black nose. Azure pushes his nose against my nose and snorts blue flames. My skin burns pleasantly and my whole body relaxes. Being with my Dragon has that effect on me most of the time.

" _The jumper is blue and has green polka dots on it_." Azure tells me, not sounding pleased at all about it.

" _Did you wear the jumper?_ " I ask, trying to keep the amusement out of my tone.

Azure nibbles on my wrist and replies,

" _No. I am not a doll. I am a mighty and all powerful Dragon._ "

I feel slightly disappointed. Imagining Azure in a knitted jumper is rather funny.

" _Did Hagrid get upset that you wouldn't wear it?_ "

Azure makes sound a lot like a scoff, although I'm not sure if Dragons actually can scoff. That'll be another question for Charlie.

" _I bit him when he tried to put it on me and he just laughed._ "

I start snickering at that, just imagining Azure nipping Hagrid and the jovial half giant being happy about it. Azure blew fire onto Hagrid's bEArd last week and it froze solid. Far from being angry or annoyed, Hagrid grinned ecstatically and started cooing at Azure.

Part of me is really glad that Hagrid can't hear what Azure is actually saying when he treats the young Dragon like a human baby. Azure may have just hatched a few months ago, but he is far from having the mind of a baby.

I won't be telling Hagrid that though, he's way too overjoyed to have a young Dragon around.

" _It is not at all amusing, Draco._ " Azure nips my hand, " _My species did not survive a hundred million years of existence only to be dressed in knitted outfits by a giant man with an icy beard_."

I burst out laughing then, almost falling off the log and onto the grass.

" _I'm sure your species would understand, Azure. Hagrid just loves magikal creatures, he treats them all like sweet fluffy bunnies. No matter how dangerous or…..'mighty' they are_."

Azure blows blue fire onto my hand and I almost giggle like a twit at the feeling of exhilaration it gives me. Azure grumbles heatedly,

" _Yes, well. We'll see just how sweet and fluffy he thinks I am when I eat him_."

I decide then that I will get Hagrid to give the knitted jumper to me. I can give it to Dalia and Adam as a gift to the new baby.

* * *

_Come Little Children_  
_I'll Take Thee Away,_  
_Into A World Of_  
_Enthrallment_

_Follow Kind Children_  
_I'll Show Thee The Way_  
_Past All The Agony And_  
_The Torments_

_Cry Not Fated Children_  
_For Life Is This Way_  
_Slaying Splendour_  
_And Desire_

* * *

Draco wakes up sweaty, but his skin feels ice cold. He lays there in bed, breathing hard.

His nightmares were worse tonight. They almost seemed to have a….personal edge to them. It was like the shadows were taunting him, and the mirror….it was almost pulsing with life. Like a horrendous and enticing heartbeat.

The heartbeat of a monster on the cusp of triumph.

One child was snatched. A soul torn in half.

A second child was stolen. A soul plagued with guilt.

Now a third has been taken. A soul splintered by fear.

**Mirror mirror on the wall, feel my fright and take away the endless night.**

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few of you have questions, but to be honest I don't want to give anything away. Especially about Harry's two elements. I will say that it is very important to the the overall plot, but it won't come into play properly until story three 'Hermione Granger and the brother of Time'. 
> 
> THANK YOU TO EVERYONE FOR READING! PLEASE REVIEW! XXX


	15. Forest Of Lost Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Gore and snark.

** Hermione's P.O.V **

"I just don't understand. If Demi-Gods are the result of a God and an Elemental having a child, and Olympians are the result of a Demi-God and an Elemental having a child, then what about when two Gods, two Demi-Gods or two Olympians have a child?" I scowl irritably at Ajax.

We're sitting outside near the edge of the forbidden forest. It's getting dark out here, and we'll need to head in soon so we won't miss curfew.

For the last half an hour I've been throwing questions at Ajax about our culture. He's been quite reasonable about it, but his answers are annoyingly evasive. I can't tell if it's because he genuinely doesn't know the complete answer or because he thinks I won't like the truth.

If it was Harry then I'd know it was a bit of both. But Ajax is more bluntly honest than Harry, so I can't judge securely what his ambiguous answers mean.

Ajax raises a blond eyebrow at me, but the rest of his expression is bland and unemotional. Although that seems to be his fall back expression most of the time.

"Why is this so important to you? Who cares about what types of babies there are? Babies are babies. They drool, they poop and they scream, end of." Kit says from my other side. His dark eyes are half dropping with tiredness. Sax really went to work on Kit today, pushing him further and further until Kit looked like he would pass out. In fact I think he did pass out at one point for a few seconds.

I roll my eyes and shove Kit's shoulder. He almost topples right over and I stifle the urge to laugh at my best friend. He's been trying really hard lately to do well in our training sessions, and it shows. He's definitely improving, probably even faster than I am.

Kit says failure is a pretty great motivator. I tried telling him that he didn't fail, what happened to him could have happened just as easily to me or to any other undertrained Olympian. But no matter what I say, Kit still looks back on the day of the attack and sees only his failure to kill that Daemon.

"It's not about the 'types' of babies. I just want to know what they are classed as in our culture." I say as evenly as I can manage.

Ajax gives me a look like he doesn't believe in my cool exterior at all, but he politely doesn't say so out loud. Instead he explains to me,

"Well first of all, Demi-Gods can't have children with other Demi-God's. They were cursed thousands, maybe even millions, of years ago by Avel, the Goddess of virility and fertility. According to the legends anyway. It was said that Gods were not to lay with mankind's folk. The Titans forbade it. But the original Gods broke their covenant with the Titans. So the Titans commissioned the Goddess Avel to curse all the children of God's and Elementals so that they couldn't ever have children with their 'equals', meaning each other."

"So the Titans used Avel to punish the Gods by making it so Demi-Gods couldn't have children together." I say, disturbed by the very notion.

Ajax nods solemnly,

"The Titans were known to be harsh with their punishments." Ajax smiles just a little in amusement, "They invented _wraith_ you know."

"Yeah," Kit pipes up then, "Titans were major Bosses. They took no shit, be sure of that."

I've done a lot of reading lately about my kind, and the Gods in general. Every mention I've found of the Titans describes them as tyrants and inherently cruel beings. I even found one book that said Titans created Deamons to wipe away the existence of Demi-Gods and keep the Elementals in line.

 _How awful_ , at least the Gods did one good thing by trapping the Titans in their cage.

Ajax continues with his explanation then,

"As for the Gods themselves, they consider each other family for the most part, but on the rare occasions when they do procreate, their children are considered 'lesser Gods'."

Before I can stop myself I ask Ajax,

"Was your father one those 'lesser Gods'?" He must have been if he was killed so easily by a Daemon surely. I wince at that thought even inside my own head.

Ajax's eyes darken considerably and I regret asking the question at all. I open my mouth to take it back, but before I can get a word out Ajax is answering,

"My biological father…..he is still very much alive. I've never met him. My _Dad_ , the man who raised me, was a Wizard. My mum was a witch, they met at Hogwarts, and got married shortly after. My mum had a brief affair with a God, which I was the result of."

"Bloody hells bells, that must have been an awkward conversation between your mum and her bloke." Kit says, his eyes now wide open and alert, "You know like, _'I copped off with a God and now I'm having his baby…..what do you feel like for tea_?' ** _So_** awkward."

I shake my head at Kit in astonishment,

"Do you ever filter what you say by thinking about it first?"

Kit shrugs one shoulder,

"Not really, I find it tends to only exasperate the situation when I think."

" _You_ exasperate _me_." I say with a loud sigh.

I look at Ajax apologetically, but I'm surprised to see that he's actually smiling. He nods at me,

"It's ok. I'm not upset or anything. Kit is right, it probably was an awkward conversation for them, but my Dad loved me and he never treated me badly because of what my mother had done."

"Oh…well...that's good then." I say, struggling to find the right words without sounding like an insensitive idiot.

Both Kit and Ajax suddenly exchange glances of amusement at my expense, and I glare at them.

"Oh, shut _up_." I snap, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"How about two Olympians?" I ask, pushing past the discomfiture of the last few minutes. I'm not one to ever be easily deterred from finding out more information about any given subject.

Ajax stops smiling then and crosses his arms. He appears to be thinking hard about how to word something. Finally he looks up and says,

"Olympians rarely have children. Their lives are so…dangerous most of the time. A lot of Olympians believe that having a child only gets in the way of their true calling. But the few that do have children…those children are born squibs, with no magikal or elemental abilities."

"Harsh." Kit mutters, his expression turning morose. That isn't like Kit at all, he's usually so upbeat about everything. He's not quite as much of a human sunbeam as Draco, I mean that's just not humanly possible, but Kit is always smiling and joking and laughing. I've come to associate my own comfort in a social situation with Kit's behaviour.

So when Kit feels truly upset about something, my skin crawls just a little.

"That's…completely unfair." I say, frowning to myself. The more I learn about my kind, the more convinced I am that the power balance is ridiculously off kilter between Olympians and the Demi-Gods.

Ajax doesn't respond. He seems to have lapsed back into one of his infamous silences. I decide not to prod him this once. It's not like he can say anything that will placate me, or make the situation any less screwed up.

I reach over and place a hand on Kit's arm,

"Do you think you want children?" I ask him curiously.

Kit gives me a dry look and says,

"Yes, Hermione, I've got my entire life planned out. I'll be having three wives, two husbands and fifteen children. We'll all live in my mansion made of twigs and moon beams, and I'll become Minister of magik. Oh, and I'll also have a pet duck."

I let out an amused snort and slap Kit's arm,

"Don't be mean just because you're in a crappy mood."

Kit settles back on the grass and groans loudly. He wipes a hand down over his face and then up through his hair. He smiles remorsefully at me,

"I'm sorry. I guess I'm still feeling shifty after what happened to Neville."

I wince at that. We all awoke one morning to find that Neville Longbottom had gone missing from the infirmary.

Just like Ariadne and the Patil twin, Neville seems to have vanished into thin air. There's no trace of him anywhere in the castle, or on the castle grounds.

Gods only know why Hogwarts hasn't been closed down yet. Dumbledore has issued a statement to the press stating that 'Hogwarts will never be wilted in the face of tragedy'. What he really means is that as many children can go missing as they like and he won't do sod all about it.

Or at least that's the way it seems. My opinion may be biased because of Harry's distinct dislike for our headmaster and all his decisions since we arrived at Hogwarts. But even if I look at the situation neutrally, I still think that not enough is being done to find those missing children.

I've been thinking more and more about going to Eos about mine and Harry's discoveries regarding the Fae and the Erised mirror and the Desetine stone. But, then, as Harry pointed out, our professors and mentors are meant to be highly skilled and intelligent people. If a couple of school children can figure out this mystery, then surely they should be able to.

You'd like to think so anyway.

Draco took it badly when he found out about Neville. In fact he went straight to Professor Dumbledore and demanded that he be allowed to be part of the search for Neville. Of course his 'request' was denied. Both Harry and I were secretly relieved.

We've already had to field calls and letters from Dalia and Adam about taking us home. There's barely any term time left, and then we'll be coming home anyway. After this year though it'll be a miracle if Dalia lets us come back. She's supposed to be giving birth any day now, and we're all really excited.

Even Harry. Not that he shows it on the outside. I think his tutoring sessions with Professor Snape are making him even more worryingly cunning and secretive. If that's even possible at this point.

"It's quite insane how these children have been disappearing seemingly without reason, or having left behind any evidence. Apart from possibly Ariadne. It must be some kind of magikal creature. I can't think of anything else that would have such unique power." Ajax says speculatively.

Kit and I exchange a look of understanding then. We haven't told Ajax, or anyone else outside of ourselves and Harry, about what's really going on. Harry says it's best that way. If too many people get involved then whoever it is seems likely to attack, and the first people he, or it, will come for are the ones who blabbed in the first place.

A.k.a. _Us_.

"Yeah, probably." I say noncommittally.

Ajax peers at me more closely, clearly suspicious of my non-answer. I try to school my features into something neutral and unbothered. After a few long moments Ajax opens his mouth to speak. But before he can get a word out I hear a voice shout from somewhere in the distance,

"HELP ME! PLEASE, SOMEONE, HELP ME!"

I jerk in surprise and turn around, getting up onto my knees. The voice is coming from inside the forbidden forest.

Kit gets to his feet and takes a step towards the edge of the forest,

" _What the_ -" he starts, but he's cut off by another scream.

"PLEASE! I'M TRAPPED! I NEED HELP!"

I don't recognise the voice, but it sounds young, so it could be a child from the school. Who would wonder off into the forbidden forest though? A lot of the older students probably.

"HELP ME!" The voice pleads again.

I can hear the voice so clearly that it rings in my ears.

"We need to go in and find them," I say firmly, "They could be in serious danger."

"I'll go," Ajax says, his voice authoritative, "You two head back to Hogwarts and tell the professors."

I spin around on my heel and give him a sharp look.

"No way in basket hell are you going in there alone!" I say, pointing at the forbidden forest.

"You're not trained enough for this," Ajax growls at me.

I scoff incredulously,

"You don't even know what ' ** _this'_** is yet!"

"We don't have time to argue," Ajax says in exasperation.

"Good, then don't," I reply determinedly. "We'll be stronger together than apart."

Ajax locks eyes with me and we stare at each other for a long time. I can feel the heat of Ajax's anger piercing into my face. I don't back down even an inch. Ajax is like a wild cat, if he spots weakness, he'll strike.

Kit raises his hand abruptly and asks,

"Do I get any say in this at all?"

"No!" Ajax and I both snap without looking at him.

"Well of _course_ not," Kit mutters under his breathe, "I mean why should I? It's only risking our lives by going into a ** _forbidden_** forest where there is _clearly_ a threat. What could possibly hold me back from that fun-ride?"

"HELP ME! PLEASE!" The voice comes again, ripping the tension between Ajax and I apart.

Ajax grits his teeth, but says finally,

"Fine, let's go. But you and Kit stay close to me at all times, got it?" His eyes flicker between me and Kit.

"Got it!" Kit and I reply.

All three of us start running into the forbidden forest.

With our keen sense of hearing, it doesn't take us long to pinpoint exactly in which the direction the screams are coming from. We run alongside each other, with me in the middle and the two boys flanking me on either side.

The further we get into the forbidden forest, the more tangled and dark it becomes. Massive trees with all different shades of leaves and bark seem to bend inwards, creating an almost tunnel within the forest. Most of the trees are thick and starkly foreboding in their size and shape. Vines and twisted branches stick out all over the place, and it takes a lot of skill to avoid smacking into them.

Bark from the trees scratch harshly against my skin as I pass them in tighter spots where we have to run single file rather than together. I look up at the sky, only to realise that I can no longer see it thanks to the trees obscuring my view. It feels almost like we're being closed into a cage.

Or a trap.

A very bad feeling starts to itch its way down my spine.

I suddenly feel an ice cold chill strike up through my body and I pull to a stop. Ajax has already stopped a few paces in front of me. I look ahead and see that we've reached a dead end. The trees are too thick to keep going unless we hack our way through it. Kit slows down and pauses at my side. His brows are furrowed almost painfully.

"Are you alright?" I ask him.

Kit shakes his head and mumbles,

"No. I feel like something is….trying to get inside my head. It really hurts. Like a burning sensation, but cold."

I feel the same thing tingling inside my chest. It's a bit like heartburn, but ice cold and a much more invasive kind of pain. I clutch a hand to chest, my jaw locks to keep in a shout.

I look around slowly, taking in our surroundings. It's only then that I realise the path behind us has been sealed off. The open space we came through is now covered in branches and leaves. So much so that I can't even see back through it.

Kit leans in close to me and whispers,

"Are we being attacked by evil trees?"

I shrug helplessly,

"Quite possibly."

All I can think is that Draco would bloody _love_ this. Danger and all.

Ajax slowly turns to face us. His skin is white as a sheet, and he looks slightly panicked, which means a lot more coming from him.

It's official, we're caged inside the forbidden forest.

Those cries for help have stopped, and now I force myself to acknowledge the possibility that we've been tricked into coming inside the forbidden forest by someone. Or something.

I take another look around, but there's nothing to see but branches of black and dark brown bark. I feel like I'm in one of those gothic books where everything is spindled and scarily quirky. It is not a good feeling. At all.

That cold pain inside my chest seems to be burning steadily now, neither getting worse nor better. I suppose that's progress of a sort.

"This is so completely not good." Kit says, his expression is tense.

Yeah, I'm right there with you my friend.

Ajax's eyes widen almost comically at something over my shoulder. I spin around quickly to see whatever it is that has Ajax looking so shocked.

I suck in a gasp that threatens to almost choke me. Kit turns around as well and I hear him exclaim dramatically,

"Bloody hell, it's Wonderland gone dark side!"

He kind of has a point though.

I shake my eyed, trying to shake away the fog inside my brain, but I can't take my eyes off….. _it_.

The creature before me purrs,

"Now, now, silly girl, did no one ever teach you that it is impolite to stare. It makes you look stupid. Although maybe you are stupid. Most of your kind usually are after all." Its voice is deep and creepily whimsical. It reminds me of one of those haunting Halloween melodies.

I can barely comprehend what I'm seeing. It looks like a cat. A very skinny cat with sharp cheek and hip bones that appear to jut out peculiarly. Its eyes are in the shape of diamonds and they glimmer moonlight silver. The creatures' fur is short and pearly white in colour, and it literally shines like the rounded edges of the moon.

But the 'cat's' most outstanding feature is definitely its teeth. The creatures' mouth is split open wide, unnaturally so. It reminds me of Spero and Vita when they're swallowing a large meal. Its teeth look to be pure silver, and instead of having just a normal set, this 'cat' has dozens of different sized fangs sticking out at all angles. A bit like a shark.

It's terrifying and oddly captivating at the same time.

All I can really think of to describe the creature is….. ** _strange_**. In fact this cat might be the strangest thing I've ever seen, and with the life I've been leading lately, that's really saying something.

"It is very unattractive to gape like a fish, child." The creature speaks again. I try to contain a shiver.

"What the crap is going **_on_**?" I blurt. I immediately cringe at the austerity of my tone.

"It speaks!" The creature announces, sounding somehow mocking, bored and delighted all at once.

"What **_are_** you?" I breathe in a sort of horrified awe.

The creature is balanced precariously on a branch, one of its paws hanging loosely off the edge. At my words however the creature flicks its tail violently. I see then that the tail is tipped with a spike of bared bone. There are silver scars surrounding the bone where the flesh cuts off.

"I am a cat." The creature says to me like I'm a bit soft in the head. "I did imagine you would be a tad cleverer than this. I do so hope that the Fae haven't managed to capture the wrong humans. That would be most unfortunate."

I am not sure how to handle this moment.

But then what the creature actually said registers and I move a step closer to it. Curiosity gets the better of me.

"The Fae? What do you know about the Fae?"

The creature grins at me, showing off its fangs in all their spine tingling glory. I just about manage to hold back a shudder.

"I know a great many things, child. I was created by the Fae." The creature tilts its head thoughtfully, "Or quite possibly the Fae were created by _me_ ….neither of us really remembers anymore, it was such a long time ago."

I'm getting more and more confused the longer this goes on! I don't even know what this **_is_**!

"Who are you?" Ajax demands. I look back at him and see a steel edge glinting in his eyes. He takes a few steps towards me and stands at my side, a very protective air emanating from him now.

Kit is still staring at the monster-cat like his entire childhood has just been destroyed. It's quite possible that that is actually the case.

The creature spares a flickered glance for Ajax, but its snake-like eyes almost immediately return to me.

"Honestly, does none of your kind teach their young manners?" The creature flicks out a black forked tongue and licks its paw delicately.

"Do you have a name?" I ask, trying, despite myself and the situation, to sound somewhat polite.

The creature grins again and I openly wince this time. My reaction only seems to amuse the 'cat'.

"Everything has a name, you silly thing." It purrs.

I can't decide if this is frustrating, frightening or fascinating. Possibly a mixture of all three actually.

"Will you tell us what it is?" I request.

The creature tilts his head again and stares. I really don't like the intensity in its gaze. I feel like it knows something about me that I don't know and would be horrified to find out.

I do wonder why it seems like Kit and Ajax can understand this cat-like being. I assumed I'd be able to because I can talk to all cats. Then again, just because this creature looks a bit like a cat and tells us it's a cat, doesn't mean it actually **_is_** a cat.

"Well since you asked so nicely..." The creature's large silver eyes widen to an almost impossible size for its face. It leans in closer to me from the gnarled branch it's been resting on, and Ajax moves slightly in front of me, a glare twisting his features. This causes the creature to look even more amused, but it continues anyway, "I have many names in many different languages and tongues...but you may call me Magesith." Magesith eyes Kit for a moment doubtfully, and then adds, "Or simply 'Mage' for those of you who might struggle with longer words."

Kit scowls and his eyes finally move away from Magesith. He says to me in a comic whisper,

"Uh, Hermione."

"Yeah?" I keep one eye on Magesith and the other divided between a silently seething Ajax and a still slightly shell-shocked Kit.

"Did my intelligence just get insulted by a _cat-shark_?" Kit asks.

I nod slowly,

"I'm afraid so."

"This is _really_ weird." Kit says matter-of-factly.

"Ye ** _p_** ," I reply, "That about sums it up." I return my full attention to Magesith and ask, "What do you know about the Fae? Are they behind this somehow?" I gesture at our forest cage.

Magesith slides forward a bit more on his branch, bringing his face uncomfortably close to mine.

"Good, good, you aren't a complete moron then, that'll make things far more interesting." Magesith purrs approvingly. "Yes, the Fae did lure you into the forest and trap you."

Well that's not _great_ news _._

"Why? What are they going to do with us?" I ask earnestly.

Magesith tilts his head from side to side, as if considering how best to answer my question. Eventually he replies nonchalantly,

"The Fae mean to kill you and feed you to the trees."

Kit's gaze darts around wildly. He practically yelps,

"The _trees eat people_!"

Magesith gives Kit another barely tolerant look and says,

"No, of course not, these trees don't have mouths you Godly imbecile." I feel slightly relieved until Magesith goes on to explain, "They just like to rip the flesh off your bones and then absorb your power."

"Why would a TREE do that?" I ask disbelievingly.

Magesith appears to shrug uncaringly before answering,

"I am not aware of their reasoning. I know nothing of Tree politics, not anymore."

What does that even **_mean_**?

"You're just talking rubbish now," Kit accuses with a frown.

Magesith ignores Kit and says to me,

"In truth the Fae plan to kill you and use your deaths as a means to attain the Desetine stone. I imagine they will contact your partner in destiny soon enough and provoke him into action by using your deaths as an incentive."

My partner in _what_?

Magesith apparently reads the confusion on my face and rolls his eyes. He sounds slightly irritated when he clarifies,

" _Harry Potter..._ that boy has more than a touch of destiny about him." Magesith flicks his tongue out again towards my face. "As do you, _Hermione Granger_."

That coldness in my chest increases ever so slightly and a painful shiver wracks through my body.

"What is it that you want?" I ask, more suspicious now than ever.

Magesith uses his tail to scratch an itch behind his ear, and the sharpness of the bone whips around, almost catching me in the face. I stand my ground and try not to flinch away.

"I have come to aid you, child. I can convince the Fae not to kill you, and instead release you when _Harry Potter_ retrieves the stone." Magesith offers, another grin splitting his face in half.

"You would expect something in return, I'm sure." Ajax all but snarls.

"Of course." Magesith agrees easily.

"You're not having my first born child." I say. Draco would make a comment like that, and thinking of him comforts me right now. Draco wouldn't be afraid. He would be excited and enthralled by Magesith, let alone the rest of it. The lunatic.

Magesith gives me a chilling look of condescension and snips,

"You read far too much fiction, child. I am not a **_Pixie_**. What would I want with a bratty child who has ridiculously big brown eyes like yours? Stop being stupid, you will not survive this night otherwise."

I find my courage then. It's lit with anger.

"I'm not being _stupid_ , I just found out I'm about to be used as a pawn in some magikal game of cat and mouse. How should I know if cats want human babies or not?"

Magesith appears completely unruffled by my outburst and says simply,

"I want a favour."

"What kind of favour?" Ajax grits out between clenched teeth.

Magesith blinks his massive moonlight eyes and shifts on his branch. He explains calmly,

"One day I will need something from you. When that day comes, you will do as I ask."

I consider the strange cat for a moment, and then ask,

"What if I can't…or won't do what you ask of me?"

Magesith's eyes appear to brighten with some frightening emotion that I can't identify.

"Then you will die."

"What will happen if you leave us alone here and we can't bargain with the Fae ourselves?" I ask, trying not to sound anxious.

"As I said before...you will most likely be eaten or absorbed or ripped to shreds." Magesith says flippantly.

"By….?"

"Pretty much anything in this forest really."

I huff, unable to help myself,

"Right, not much of a choice then is there."

Magesith tilts his head once more and says,

"Oh I disagree, there are many choices. But most of them do end in you being eaten I must say. I am guessing that is not an idea you are fond of."

"Fine then," I snap impatiently, "I will owe you a favour...but only if you help Harry get the stone as well."

Magesith's grin turns into more of a smirk. It's even more frightening.

"You have yourself a bargain, child. Hold out your arm."

Ajax and Kit both begin to protest, but I ignore them. We need to get out of here, and I have no doubt that what Magesith is saying is true. The Fae will kill us just to prove a point, I'm sure of it. I don't want to trust Magesith, but I also don't want to risk my life at the hands of the Fae.

As Dalia often says, sometimes you have to choose the lesser of two evils.

I hold out my bared arm and in a flash, Magesith's tail lashes out and slices a cut across my skin. I hiss at the white hot pain. But instead of the cut healing quickly thanks to my Olympian blood, the gash on my arm forms into a black jagged scar.

"You have been marked, _Hermione Granger_. Our deal is bound." Magesith intones and then he disappears in a flash of silver smoke.

** Harry's P.O.V **

Have you ever had a nightmare so vivid and so agonisingly real that it forces you to call into question everything you know about yourself?

I have experience with such nightmares. I used to dream about my mother's death quite often. I would hear her scream and I would see that flash of green light and I would feel my revulsion grow as I watched a thick black smoke force its way down her throat.

When I saw those Daemons attack Neville, it reminded me of my nightmares. I didn't allow myself to think much on it at the time. But in the months since I've become steadily more and more curious about the connection between my nightmares about mother's death and the Daemon attack.

Dumbledore told that me my parents were murdered by Voldemort, and that he used a deadly curse to do it. I did not think it would be well received if I were to ask Dumbledore about the curse that killed by mother. He might think my interest….morbid.

So instead I researched it on my own. It took a lot of slogging through the restricted section in the library, but I eventually found a tomb that described the curse used by Voldemort.

As Dumbledore said, it is known simply as the 'killing curse' by most Elementals. According to the history book that I read, the curse was created by Mordred Le Fey hundreds of thousands of years ago. He apparently created such a curse by harnessing the power of a Daemon through a very dangerous ritual. That at least explains why the curse from my nightmare, or I suppose 'memory', is so similar to how the Daemons attack their victims.

Nothing can block the killing curse. No shield. No ritual. No Dark Arts magik. I've looked through all the books I can find and nothing ever mentions a way to stop it.

Why would someone create such a curse?

Well, the answer to that is rather obvious. Power.

Mordred Le Fey was feared and respected by his peers as a mighty warrior, and is known as one of the greatest Wizards of all time.

I imagine wielding a weapon like the killing curse must have helped a great deal with his reputation as a warrior and as a Wizard.

I remember the horror of my nightmares about my mother. I remember feeling scared and alone and furious once I woke up from those nightmares. They always made me feel weak, and I _despise_ feeling weak. In any context. Even when I'm alone and no one is there to judge me but myself.

It makes me feel like a failure to allow my emotions to rule me so completely. I'm meant to be the strong, mature one. The one who always knows what to do and how to go about solving any problems.

When I lose control I know I'm letting those I love down. They expect more from me, even though they say they don't.

I had another one of those nightmares tonight, which is why I can't sleep.

Instead I'm sitting in the roofless tower, attempting to complete my Dark Arts assignment. Blaise unfortunately woke up at the same time and insisted on coming with me. But to be fair he hasn't said a word since we got up here.

Say what you like about Slytherins being evil, but they know how to read a room.

I let myself enjoy the night air and the silence that surrounds Blaise and I. We both work on our essays quietly and my mind finally begins to wind down.

I've been working non-stop for the last few months. Professor Snape's extra lessons have been both informative and exhausting. He expects me to work three times as hard during our private sessions as I actually do in class. But he also takes more time to carefully explain things, so it all balances out in the end.

Draco doesn't think so, in fact he thinks I'm mental for even wanting private sessions with Professor Snape in the first place. I found it incredulous that he would think me wanting more time learning my favourite subject is weird, but him wanting to keep his **_Dragon_** is completely sane.

I'm just finishing off the final paragraph of my essay when I see a flash of something silver out of the corner of my eye. I slowly get to my feet and look out over the edge of the tower. Blaise must read the tension in my body because he gets up as well and comes to stand beside me.

I don't see anything at first, just the darkness of the vast and seemingly endless night. But then all of a sudden there's a snapping sound, like two pieces of metal being chinked together, and a small creature appears in front of my face. I have to blink a couple of times to let my eyes adjust to what I'm actually seeing.

Right in front of me is a creature only about twelve inches tall. She has wings that are as see through as glass and flutter furiously against the breeze. From the symbols etched onto the creatures' skin I know instantly what she is. I've been reading about her kind too much not to know.

She's a Fearie. From the Marx's tribe most likely. They are well known for their pale, almost translucent, blue skin and crimson red eyes. This one has long dark blue hair knotted with tiny bones, and is scantily clad in what looks like blue leather. No shoes. Fearie's from the Marx's tribe never wear shoes; they consider it an insult to do so.

With that in mind I kick off my shoes and knock them aside. I tap Blaise's arm and he instantly follows suit by removing his own shoes.

The Fearie smiles at me. It's a dangerous smile that promises cruelty. After everything I've read I would expect nothing less from the Faefolk.

"You know of us, mortal baby." The Fearie simpers, her voice high and distinctly musical. It sounds like every syllable is a new note.

I try not to balk at her use of the word 'baby'. I know that to Fae my eleven years of life must seem like nothing when they have been alive for many centuries.

"I do." I reply neutrally. I don't want to give this Fearie any reason to attack. Once you have the wraith of one, the entire tribe comes after you. I've read that in numerous records of Fae attacks.

"We have a task for you." The Fearie tells me. I have no doubt who she means by 'we'.

I can feel Blaise becoming uneasy beside me, but I don't look at him. I can't take my eyes off of this Fearie.

"What kind of task would your tribe have for me?" I ask. There's no possible way I can outright refuse without there being serious consequences for both myself and Blaise. Since it appears that they are here because of me, it is therefore my responsibility to keep Blaise safe from harm.

The Fearie raises one hand and waves it in a circular motion. A ball of blue mist appears beside the Fearie and I watch in fascination as a picture appears within the blue mist. It takes me a moment to recognise what I'm being shown, but then it clicks in my head.

"The Desetine stone." I murmur. Within the blue smoke is a red crystal about the same size as my fist.

Blaise is watching me now, and I can practically feel the questioning look in his eyes. But I don't have time to worry about him now. I can deal with my friend's interrogation later.

The Fearie's mouth tilts into a sideways smirk and she nods,

"Yes, _Gyermek sorsát,_ you are correct. That is the Desetine stone. We know it once resided inside your school."

I try not to look too surprised that they would know this. I suppose I shouldn't be, the stone is somehow connected to a mirror that the Fae themselves created. What worries me is the Fearie's use of past tense. Has someone taken the Desetine stone?

"What is it that you want me to do?" I think I know the answer to this question already, but it does me no good to assume.

The Fearie waves her hand again and the blue mist starts swirling more rapidly. The Desetine stone disappears and a new image replaces it. Fury and intense anxiety bolts through me when I see Hermione, Kit and Ajax. They appear to be trapped inside some kind of woodland cage.

I look out towards the forbidden forest. They have my _sister_.

I feel my own eyes start to glow a bright green, my magik rises to the surface and I almost gasp at the intensity of such a rush. The air around us changes, it becomes charged with both power and my own sinister rage.

"I do not respond well to threats." I warn the Fearie calmly, my voice low. Because that's exactly what this is; a threat to kill my sister if I don't comply with their demands.

The Fearie looks rather more impressed and fascinated than afraid. Her red eyes gleam with malice and intrigue. No, the Marx tribe enjoy shows of hostile emotion.

Unlike Blaise, who I feel shiver in terror in the wake of my uncollared power outburst. My magik whips around me like a deadly army of scorpion tails. I feel my blood turn ice cold and my elemental magik sings in tune with my body.

The Fearie gazes at me in clear excitement and whispers breathily,

"Your eyes are the colour of death."

My magik screams to lash out at this vile creature, and there isn't a single part of me that doesn't want to do just that. But the moment I think about letting go, Draco's face flashes through my mind. I know that if Draco were here he'd tell me to stay calm and **_think_**.

He would want me do to what is best for Hermione. Hurting this little beast would be satisfying, but it could put Hermione in even more immediate peril. I can't stand the thought of that.

So, I force my magik back and push my rage aside. I eye the Fearie carefully as I say,

"Tell me what you need me to do."

The Fearie smirks again, although there is a hint of disappointment on her tiny face. She points a pale blue hand towards the forbidden forest and says,

"Someone has taken the Desetine stone from the castle and into our forest. You _will_ retrieve the stone before the tithe is complete."

I frown in confusion at that and ask,

"Why do your tribe want to stop the ritual?"

The Fearie's eyes glow ruby red for a moment and she hisses in a voice that sounds like two spoons being rubbed together,

"Fae rituals are **_sacred_**. We will not have them _butchered_ and _abused_ for purposes not of our own imagining!"

In other words, this is **our** sandpit and we don't want to share **our** toys. Got it.

"I accept the task your tribe have set." Like I have a real choice here.

The Fearie claps maniacally and twirls in mid-air. But then she pierces me with a look so nasty that I almost falter.

"You will do this alone, without any help from your older humans," she eyes Blaise and I feel him shudder again, "Your friend may go, if you feel he would be more of a help than a hindrance," The Fearie looks like she doubts Blaise's usefulness in any aspect of life.

Blaise makes an offended sound, and I suppress a smirk. In any other instance this situation might even be amusing. If only to see Blaise's renowned arrogance falter.

"I accept your terms," I say, because again, it's not like I actually have a choice unless I want to risk Hermione's life. I hate the idea of being so reckless, but I would do anything for my family.

The Fearie gives me one last wicked smirk before she disappears with a small crack of lightening.

After a beat of tension filled silence, Blaise whips around to face me and says,

"Harry, are you **_mental_**? You cannot go around making deals with the Faefolk!"

I give Blaise a sharp look and he immediately quells, retreating back into himself. He dips his head repentantly. I keep my eyes trained on him critically for a few long seconds before looking back out towards the forbidden forest.

"You don't have to come with me Blaise," In fact that would probably be better, since I wouldn't have another person to look out for.

Blaise rolls his shoulders delicately. I turn to study my friend's face. He looks pensive, but resolved. Blaise says reasonably,

"We are friends, Harry. And Slytherin's. The other houses may think we know nothing of loyalty outside of blood, but they are wrong." He looks me right in the eye, "I want to help you get your sister back."

In reality I know Blaise cares nothing for Hermione. But if he's willing to genuinely aid me in getting the Desetine stone, then I can't think of a good reason to object without sounding like I don't trust him at all. The again, its possible Blaise wants to help me because Kit is his cousin. Perhaps there is some familial loyalty involved here.

Whatever the case, I don't want to burn any bridges with Blaise after only one year at Hogwarts.

I give Blaise one agreeable nod and say,

"Alright then, let's get moving."

If we survive this then I'm going to owe Draco an apology for all the times I got angry at him for running off into dangerous situations without any backup.

** Draco's P.O.V **

I'm not ultimately sure what led me here. It might have been that final dream, when the mirror revealed itself and destroyed all the shadows in a crescendo of power. Or it could have also been the haunting song I've been hearing on a loop inside my head for months finally drawing me out.

Whatever it actually was, it made me get up out of my bed and walk beyond the wards of Hogwarts and into the forbidden forest. I'm interested in meeting the person who enticed my soul so far into the darkness.

I feel as if my mind has been filled with fog for the last few months, but all that's gone now. I can think clearly again.

 _Or as clearly as my mind has ever been capable of_. Not the time brain. _It's never the time with you!_

I really don't have time to argue with my own inner crazy voice right now. Maybe later. If there is a later. I'm beginning to doubt that just a little bit.

The forbidden forest is a beautiful and extraordinary place. I really wish I'd given into temptation and visited before. I can feel the magik of this place all around me, and it burns across my skin with the scalding heat of white hot flame.

All the trees are twisted and imposing. I wonder if they can speak. I've read about some trees that can do that. I strain my ears to listen just in case.

There's a strange whooshing noise that I thought was the wind before, but it can't be. The trees aren't moving with the breeze. None of the leaves are rustling at all. So what could be making that noise?

I place a hand carefully on the bark of a tree and lean in close to say,

"Tell me a secret."

The whooshing sound gets louder. Excellent! I have made contact with tree-kind!

"Dray….seriously stop petting that tree. You're scaring Ron." Katie whisper-hisses at me.

I didn't mean to bring Katie and Ron along with me, but they insisted. Well, I woke Ron up to tell him I was going, and he refused to let me go alone. I said that if he was coming then we had to tell Katie just in case something happened. Of course Katie refused to let either me or Ron run off by ourselves.

I told Walter in the end, since he's the only one who couldn't physically follow us, and I didn't want to invite any more people on my impromptu adventure.

I smile manically back at my friends and Ron gives me a slightly worried look.

"You ok, mate?" Ron asks.

I nod vigorously,

"Yeah, I'm great!"

Ron and Katie exchange glances.

"Then why were you stroking a tree?" Katie asks, sounding at least half genuinely curious.

I shake my head and gesture at all the trees surrounding us,

"I just wanted to see if it would _talk_ to me."

"Oh, r _iiiiii_ ght," Ron says, his eyes are wide and mocking. He nudges Katie's arm and whispers loudly to her, "I think he's finally snapped."

"I didn't realise he could snap much further." Katie replies.

Rude. Just rude.

"You people are meany bo beany's." I tell them.

"And you're our insane best friend who talks to trees." Katie fires back at me.

I wave a hand dismissively,

"Can't a young boy wizard talk to a tree in the hopes of that tree talking back without getting called weird?"

" _No_." Katie and Ron say in unison.

I should have brought Harry and Hermione, they would have just ignored my oddness. They're too used to it by now to actually ask questions.

Then again, neither Harry nor Hermione would have let me come down here in the first place. They'd be angry with me for keeping the contents of my nightmares to myself. Or between me and Walter that is. He counts as responsible adult. Sort of.

"Stop your whinging and come on, we have to find this mirror." I say to my friends. I know the mirror from my dreams is inside this forest somewhere. I can _feel_ it.

"I still don't understand what's so important about this mirror thingy," Ron says, he scrunches his nose up, making a face.

"It's got something to do with the children going missing, Ron, of course it's important," Katie says, aghast.

"I **_think_** it has something to do with the missing children," I say firmly. My heart pangs when I think about Neville. He's my friend, and I feel awful for letting him get taken. I'll do whatever it takes to get him and the other two children back.

Ron groans and his shoulders slump,

"Alright fine then. But we better find it soon, I do not want to get lost in the forbidden forest. My Dad says that once you get lost in here, you stay lost. Forever."

Both Katie and I look at Ron then. Katie gives a little huff,

"Well thank you once again for your supreme level of tact, Ronald Weasley."

My two friends begin bickering and I bring my mind back to matter at hand.

As we move further through the forest I begin to feel like thousands of eyes are watching my every move. It's a bit like when I first arrived at Hogwarts, but times a bazillion. I try my best not to skip too happily.

But, damn, this is my ** _place_**. I could have spent all year in this forest.

The magik I feel dancing along my flesh is old and pure and exhilarating. How could anyone _not_ want to experience this?

In the back of my mind I can still hear the song.

_Come little children_

It's just a whisper.

_I'll take thee away_

But the further into the forest we go-

_Into a land of Enchantment_

-the louder it gets.

"Hey look!" Ron says suddenly, he points at a burst of light emanating from something through the trees up ahead.

I start walking faster towards the encased light. My skin tingles with magik, and strangely, the birthmark over my heart starts to burn.

I climb through a gap in the thick twist of the trees and drop down to the ground. I look up and am unable to hold in my gasp. It's like I've been transported into a whole new world.

The grass beneath my feet is bright shining gold in colour. All the trees surrounding this clearing have white bark and crisp silver leaves. Above me I can see the sky, unlike anywhere else inside the forbidden forest. But this sky is not even remotely like anything I've ever seen before. For one thing it's purple. And for another there are three moons. Each one of them a different shade of red.

On a small hill in the middle of the clearing is the mirror from my dreams. It's bigger than I thought it would be. The frame of the mirror is a mixture of gold and copper, and the two metals twist together creating a double helix all the way around the mirror. The mirror itself ripples and moves, reminding me more of water than glass.

I take a step toward the mirror, completely captivated.

The song inside my head feels more like a pulsing beat now, and everything else around me fades into the background.

But despite that, I can't help but hear a strangled whisper buried underneath the song.

I just _know_ that hidden sound is coming from within the mirror. I try to push the song back, using every bit of willpower I have. Somehow I manage to muffle the song enough that I can properly hear the noises coming from the mirror.

I stagger backwards, my eyes widening.

Screams and crying, anguished voices fill my head.

I feel like my mind might just explode from the sorrow of it, and the song threatens to take over again. I even consider letting it, just so I can drown out the voices.

But I know that the voices are the truth, and the song is a lie.

I look behind me, suddenly remembering Katie and Ron, I don't want them to be swept up in the song as well. When I don't see them anywhere in the clearing I take a few steps towards the opening where I came through.

It's gone.

Everything is sealed off.

I hope Katie and Ron go back to castle and don't attempt to come after me. I don't want them anywhere near this place. There's something really …. _off_ , about it.

I almost go to my knees when my birth mark starts to burn so painfully that it feels like someone is trying to scorch it right off. I clutch at my chest and clench my jaw tightly shut to stop a scream from escaping. My teeth bite into my tongue and a moment later I taste something coppery inside my mouth.

The song in my head cuts off abruptly, and the screaming dies down to a less horrifying level. Instead one voice overpowers them both.

"You look like your mother."

Despite the throbbing of my birthmark, I find the strength to turn on my heel. Now standing in front of the mirror is a man. But not quite a man.

His face is stretched and marred with blue and red veins that stick out beneath his skin. There's no hair on his head and the veins continue to protrude most grotesquely. He appears to be wearing a long black robe made of silk, only revealing his practically caved in chest. His hands are gnarled and twisted, like the bones just don't fit right inside his skin.

Another man lies, dead, at his feet.

A man I vaguely recognise as Professor Quirrell.

Professor Quirrell is naked; his body is shrivelled and decaying. Black charred pieces of skin are flayed open, revealing his seemingly melted intestines. Professor Quirrell's eyes are open and blood shot, like all the blood vessels in his eyes have exploded. Some kind of white mucus is leaking from his eyes, and there are trails of blood coming out of his shrivelled ears, nose and mouth.

I try hard not to gag. Now I finally recognise the scent in the air. A mixture of magik and….death.

I look at the other man again, and am struck by the oddest thing. The man's eyes. Unlike the rest of his inhuman appearance, the man's eyes are strangely beautiful. They are the palest blue eyes I've ever seen. In fact they may even rival the shade of my own eyes.

"Who ** _are_** you?" I find my voice. And my voice has thorns. "What have you done to my friend Neville? To the other children?"

There's no doubt in my mind that this man is the one behind the disappearances.

The blue eyed man sweeps a hand back towards the mirror, gesturing at it pointedly.

"Your friends have aided me in starting a ritual. A tithe. Their souls were sacrificed so that I could obtain a true immortal life." His voice is deep and just a bit enthralling.

A shiver courses up my spine. Neville, Aridne and Padma have been sentenced to that awful mirror. A realisation hits me then. It's their screaming I can hear inside my head. Their pleas for help. The very disturbs and disgusts me so much that I have to take a moment to compose myself.

I glare at the man,

"You're insane! That's sick, bring them back right now!"

The man reaches into his pocket and brings out a bright red stone. He holds it up so I can see it and says,

"Hold your tongue, child. You will see your friends soon enough." He points one crooked finger at me, the bone is bent towards the end, and continues, "For it is ** _you_** who will help me complete this tithe ritual. Your soul has been infected by darkness. The song would not have called to you if it wasn't."

My birth mark is still burning excruciatingly and I tighten one fist over it. I don't know what I think pressing down on it will accomplish, but I'm in too much pain to think properly.

I shake my head at the veiny lunatic and take a stumbling step backwards. There has to be a way to save Neville, Ariadne and Padma from that mirror.

"Do not resist me _, boy_. Your mother was a stubborn little wench as well, I did hope when you were chosen for the ritual that you would not have inherited that most infuriating trait." The man sneers at me distastefully.

My mother. Why does he keep mentioning Dali-

- _Oh, no_ , get your head in the game, you moron. Of course he means my birth mother, Narcissa Malfoy.

"Who are you?" I try asking again, gazing up at this terrifying man.

The man makes a frustrated sound and lifts his arm out towards me. Cruelty shines in his eyes for a moment and then suddenly I feel him. Inside my head. He smashes past my shields so easily that I'm almost _sick_. He pushes in, snatching at my memories and filling my head with hatred and hostility.

My mind screams out for release, and struggle against his psychic hold. Clearly this man is powerful, more powerful than anyone I've met before. Besides perhaps Dumbledore. And Harry.

Part of me dies just a little bit right then to think of Harry. He would be so devastated if I died tonight. Would he even know? Would he think I was just missing? Either way it would drive Harry insane with guilt and anguish and rage. I know how he'd handle it. I can see it very clearly in my mind.

Oh, so much _rage_.

My knees begin to buckle from the sheer pressure of all my senses and nerve endings being attack at once. It's quite literally only through sheer willpower alone that I stay standing. My eyes lock with the man's, and it's then that I feel a connection between us opening.

I'm dragged into his head, even beyond his iron tight shielding, and I feel so much darkness inside of him that I mentally scream. I refuse to search through his memories or his emotions. It's too dark, too malevolent, too forbidding. It would crack my sanity to search through his mind, so I keep myself pressed back against his shields.

But there is one thing I can't help but see. A name. Just one name.

 ** _Voldemort_**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for reading! xxx


	16. Mirror, Save The Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Gore and snark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)

** Harry's P.O.V **

As soon as Blaise and I entered the forbidden forest, a sense of foreboding hit me painfully in the chest.

I knew something was _wrong_. I could feel it in the unnatural silence of the forest.

I'd wanted to remain cautious and move through the dangerous forest with care. But the feeling of _wrongness_ compelled me to move faster. My mind couldn't shake the idea that if I didn't find the Desetine stone soon then something awful would happen.

Blaise struggles to keep up with me as I walk swiftly through the forest. I allow myself to be led in the right direction. This is the first time I've ever put my full faith in my own gut feeling. I honestly don't know how Draco does it on a daily basis. It's terrifying.

I would much rather have a plan. And a back-up plan. And then a back-up plan for my back up plan. As far as I'm concerned you can never be _too_ prepared; especially when you're going into a lethal forest with the intention of finding a dangerous magikal stone.

I'm going into this situation completely blind, which has definitely knocked me off kilter.

The forbidden forest is every bit as treacherous as I imagined it would be. More so in fact. I keep my focus straight ahead so I won't be distracted. A few times I think I see crimson eyes glowing in the darkness that surrounds us. But I ignore that as best I can.

"What are we actually going to do when we find the stone?" Blaise asks as he attempts to keep stride with me.

I allow my eyes to flicker over to Blaise. I take in the apprehensive look in his eyes, and the way his body appears rigid with nerves. I really shouldn't be able to read all that from just looking at Blaise, and in any other circumstance he would hide his feelings with far better stealth. But I suppose even Pureblood Slytherins have their limits.

Within the forbidden forest there appears to be no breeze. I feel as if any moment the oxygen in the air could disappear completely, leaving Blaise and I gasping for breath. It's an odd sensation to know that at any moment I could be viciously attacked by some unknown creature.

Apart from the attack that ended with my parents' murder and Voldemort's demise, I have led a relatively secure life. Until finding out that I am, in fact, an Elemental Wizard, my life was rather ordinary. Pleasant, of course, Dalia and Adam always made sure of that. But apart from the occasional burst of power I had nothing to fear. I was safe. I was happy. I had Draco and Hermione, the only two friends I felt I truly needed.

Everything is different now. We can never go back. I certainly could never forsake magik and all the extraordinary things that come along with it.

But, in this one moment, I do wonder if coming to Hogwarts was the right choice. If embracing who I truly am is worth all the danger and imminent peril I feel I am constantly at risk of igniting.

The Slytherin in me says yes, it is worth the loss of innocence to gain so much power. The boy in me says no, that maybe I will regret my ambitions in the end. Perhaps there is no right answer to a question with so many possible outcomes.

I tear my eyes away from Blaise and say,

"At the moment I'm more worried about finding the stone at all."

I believe with every rational thought inside of me that it was one of the Professors who took the Desetine stone. I'm quite convinced that it was Professor Qurriell, but I won't rule out other possibilities yet. Assumptions rarely benefit anyone.

It's then that I feel something behind me. It isn't exactly a sinister feeling, but it is…..potentially dangerous. I let my magik carefully spread out around me. I would rather keep my powerful magik as concealed as possible. The last thing I want to do is incite a challenge with a magikal creature by accident.

"Holy Firesticks!" Blaise curses over his shoulder.

I turn slightly to see what creature has apparently been stalking us, and am slightly surprised when I see Draco's dragon, Azure.

The dragon has grown since I last saw him, but he's clearly still just a baby. His black and blue scales appear to shimmer brilliantly even in the darkness of the forest. Bright eyes lock onto mine and I find myself instantly concerned. Of course Azure cannot speak to me, as I cannot speak to him, but I can feel his ancient magik as it fills the space around us.

Azure's magik tells me one thing, and one thing only; _Draco is in danger._

All other thoughts flee my mind as I take a step toward Azure. I attempt to communicate one single message with my own magik; _Where?_

I try reaching out using my own bond with Draco, but it lays disturbingly dormant inside my head. I would have noticed such a thing if my mind hadn't been so occupied with the Fae and their task.

Azure's bond with Draco is soul deep, and very strong. I know that much from discussing the bond with Draco.

Azure seems to understand my message somewhat, because he flexes his neck and tail pointedly. The dragon then dashes off through the trees. I only wait a moment before giving chase after Azure. I'm sure he's leading me towards Draco. Fear for Draco and anger over my loss of connection with him eclipses anything else I might be feeling.

However, I do distantly wonder what in the world Draco is doing inside the forbidden forest.

I wonder if the Fae took him as well as Hermione for some reason.

All I know is that now two people I love are in some kind of danger, and the thought of what could be happening to them burns me up inside. It's my job to protect them, as it has always been since the moment they both arrived in my life.

Sharp tree branches scratch my skin harshly and roots attempt to trip me up as I try to keep sight of Azure's fast moving form through the trees.

It's only when we reach a clearing and Azure comes to a sudden stop that a whole new host of fears begin to bloom within me. I realise in belated shock that Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley are pacing in confusion alongside a wall of tightly sealed together branches.

Bell and Weasley stop pacing and stare at me and Azure, twin looks of surprise on their faces.

Azure huffs urgently and a blast of blue fire comes out of his nose and mouth. The ground in front of him turns frosty.

"Where is Draco?" I demand fiercely, hearing the commanding tone in my own voice.

Weasley gapes uselessly in response, and Bell takes a step towards me, her expression grave and worried. A biting sensation begins inside my stomach.

"We don't really know." Bell says, sounding unsure and distressed, "We were right behind him and then he just…vanished." She looks over her shoulder at the thick branch wall, "I think he's on the other side of that wall. But Ron and I can't find any way through it. We even tried going over it, but I think the wall was made by Fae magik, you can't even touch it without slicing open your hand."

Bell holds out her hand to show me. There are three deep cuts on her palm and a few small ones on her fingers.

I move closer to the wall of branches and narrow my eyes, scrutinising it carefully. It definitely feels magikal. My own magik can sense it. When my mind latches onto the exact words Bell used, I spin around to face her again.

"Why do you believe it's Fae magik specifically?" I ask her.

It could be a coincidence that Bell would mention Fae magik. But I doubt it.

Bell's face flushes crimson and her back straightens noticeably. Her voice is a bit stronger than before when she says,

"Draco had a dream about a mirror made by Fae magik. He thought the mirror would be in the forbidden forest and that it has something to do with the missing children."

My first thought is that Draco is completely mad. Only he would come up with the same conclusion that I did without having any facts at all. His entire theory is most likely based on his dreams and a gut feeling. I wish he was here right now so I could yell at him for being so reckless. Then I can yell at Hermione for getting kidnapped by Fae. Finally I'll yell at myself for letting any of this happen in the first place.

I should have been paying more attention to Draco. He was clearly hiding things from me, and now that I think back on it, it seems so obvious that Draco was keeping secrets. I feel ridiculous for missing it.

Bell literally backs away from the fury in my eyes. Or maybe it's my magik. Weasley makes a strangled sound, like he might be choking on something. It's quite possible that my magik is overwhelming the air around us. I can't find it in myself to care at the moment.

Weasley and Bell both shiver violently, and they move closer to each other. Their breathe starts coming out in puffs of white condensation. I realise as frost spreads over the tree branches and ice crackles across the forest floor, that my element is trying to take over. I have to push it back into my core forcefully and with more reluctance than ever before.

I'm angry. I'm angry at Draco for not trusting me. I'm angry at the Fae for taking Hermione. I'm angry at Weasley and Bell for being the ones Draco thought he could count on. But mostly I'm angry at myself for not trusting Draco with my own secrets. If I had, maybe we wouldn't be in this situation. Or at least I would be with Draco right now, wherever he is.

Blaise bursts through the trees suddenly and almost slips on the ice. He frowns up at me and then gasps. He takes a few large steps back, naked fear in his eyes. I must look quite a state if just one look at me is causing that reaction in Blaise.

I try to calm myself down. It's so much easier to do that when Draco is right next to me. I need to find him before I go insane.

Azure watches me silently, his bright eyes focused and expectant. He moves over to the wall of branches and sniffs at it cautiously. I wonder for a moment if Dragon magik can counterbalance Fae magik. But a moment later Azure makes a loud screaming sound of anguish and snorts blue fire at the wall.

I wince when Azure's fire doesn't affect the wall of branches at all.

I feel a shift of magik in the air and my head whips around when a voice from behind me says,

"Oh dear, who brought the overgrown lizard along to the rescue mission?"

I hear Weasley, Bell and Blaise all make gasping noises of different tenors. My own eyes widen at the sight of a white cat-like creature.

Azure snarls frighteningly at the cat creature, who simply flicks out its black forked tongue in response.

"Who are you?" I demand stiffly. My hackles have risen even further. This creature practically reeks of dark magik.

"That is not of the upmost importance at the moment." The creature purrs. It's strangely disturbing silver teeth clack together unnervingly.

"It is to me." I say in a cold, stubborn tone. I've had just about enough of being pissed around by magikal creatures tonight.

The cat creature simpers in amusement,

" _Harry Potter_ , look at you. The boy with the broken scar and the split soul. Your fate is made of shadows."

I don't even want to attempt to understand what that means right now.

"I want to know who you are and what you want. Did the Fae send you?" I narrow my eyes at the strange creature. I believe I recognise it from somewhere. One of my books on Fae perhaps.

"Guess." The creature says simply, obviously reading the spark of recognition on my face.

I scrutinise the cat very carefully, taking in its sharp bone structure and shimmering white fur. It's only when I see the tail tipped with jagged bone that the realisation hits me. I am unable to completely mask my surprise as I say,

"Magesith."

Magesith smirks wickedly,

"Very good. What other secrets do you know I wonder?"

I have to contain a growl of frustration. The more time I waste standing here and talking, the more likely it is that Draco could be dead or dying somewhere. Even the thought is so unbearably abhorrent to me that I can barely stomach it.

My element swipes out like a whip and causes a tree to split open down the middle. The bark turns to ice, and then that ice shatters. The death of the tree is loud in the silent forest. For some reason the sight of that tree breaking apart pushed at something sensitive inside my core. Like a memory. Or a memory of a memory. Something distant, and yet powerful enough to make me falter.

I return my gaze to Magesith.

"I know that you are in many of the Fae stories. Some legends regard you as a God to Fae-kind, whereas others portray you as the Fae's own creation."

Magesith's eyelids droop, turning his eyes into crescent moons.

"Ah, the fickle nature of mortals." He drawls.

" _Why are you here_?" I say more forcefully. I swear if this goes on much longer then I might end up destroying this entire forest either on purpose or by accident.

Magesith's eyes flicker open again, and his iris' appear to glow even brighter than before.

"Your little God-blooded friend requested I help you in your task of retrieving the stone."

All thoughts of the Desetine stone had fled my mind the moment I found out Draco was in some kind of peril. I feel shame flood me that I allowed myself to succumb to my emotions so spectacularly.

"You've seen Hermione? Is she alright?" I take a step closer to Magesith.

Magesith gives me a dry look and replies,

"She is alive."

I suppose that will have to do for now.

"How do you propose to help me with finding the Desetine stone?" I leave the question of why I should trust this creature out of it for now.

Magesith smirks again, flashing his teeth in a way that makes Bell and Weasley gasp, Azure growl menacingly and Blaise take a few steps back.

I stand my ground and stare impassively at Magesith until he finally says,

"I know where the stone is for a start."

"Where?" I ask instantly.

Magesith's eyes flicker over my shoulder, his gaze landing on the wall of branches,

"Through there." He says.

Of course it is. Because that's just the way my life is going at the moment.

"Do you have a way of getting to the other side?" I ask drolly, unable to keep the frustration out of my voice.

Magesith scratches the bone of his tail across a large stone, the noise causes me to grit my teeth and suppress a wince.

"I can get you through the veil, yes." Magesith tells me smugly.

My eyes dart between the wall of branches and Magesith. I ask sceptically,

"How exactly?"

I know I'll do it, whatever needs to be done to get me through that wall. I have to get to Draco.

Magesith grins at me.

There's a good chance I'm going to die tonight.

** Draco's P.O.V **

I feel him before I see him.

My connection to Voldemort snaps like an elastic band and I'm thrown back into my own head. I hear Voldemort's scream of fury as he's forced out of my mind. I take in gasp of air and another shuddering breathe.

"DRACO!" I hear an unmistakable voice roar from behind me.

My connection to Harry hits me like freight train and only then do I realise how absent it was all this time. I let my hands drop away from my head, the pain from Voldemort's invasion now gone thanks to Harry's presence.

I look over my shoulder. My head still buzzes with aftershocks, but I find myself able to focus on Harry. The world around me seems to blur, or maybe I should say the world around me and Harry appears to be blurring at the edges.

Harry's green eyes are practically glowing with rage and power. But I also see the tinges of relief mixed in with all the fury. His magik reaches out and reacts to mine with a more profound crash of power between us.

I feel like I might die from the intensity of it all.

Harry rushes to my side and reaches out to grab my arm. I hiss at the burning sensation that crawls over my skin where Harry touches me. My birthmark feels like it's been ripped off, although the pain is duller than before. Harry pulls my body against his and holds me protectively. I wrap my arms around him, ignoring all the warning signs of us touching being a bad idea.

I don't know how Harry is here, and I don't care either. I'm just too glad to feel him, his power, his magik, his existence in my life. I can't imagine what I would do if I ever lost him. How could you ever survive losing someone who is as much a part of you as you are?

" _Never_ do that again," Harry growls into my ear. One his hands slides into hair and he holds it tight. His touch still burns, but I need it too much to stop. " _Never_ scare me like that, ever, again."

" ** _Potter_**!" Voldemort shrieks.

I hold onto Harry just a little bit tighter and whisper in a garbled admission,

"It's Voldemort, Bolt. He's trying to use Neville and the other missing children to give himself an immortal life."

I'm not sure if Harry will believe me, or even understand, but I have to trust that somehow he will.

Harry's body goes stiff at the name 'Voldemort'. He pulls away, and I make a sound of protest. Harry's magik turns to acid in the air when he looks at Voldemort. Reluctantly, I look over at him as well.

The despicable man is still standing by the mirror, with Qurriell dead at his feet. His vile face is twisted into a glare of hatred. Those ice blue eyes are locked on Harry, and I try to pull Harry away. I don't like the way Voldemort is looking at him. But Harry refuses to be moved. He stays, stock still, staring at Voldemort.

" _You_." Harry hisses, and it almost sounds like Parstletongue.

Voldemort sneers at Harry and takes a step forward, one bony and disjointed foot reveals itself beneath his black clothing. I want to gag at the sight of it. He's a mangled state of a man. If he can even really be called a man at all.

"Iskara Zehn." Voldemort intones, his words aimed at the mirror.

The mirror itself starts to almost shudder, as if convulsing, and the voices inside my head start up again. The **screams**.

Of the lost.

The scarred.

The _chosen_.

I start moving towards the mirror. It feels like the only way to make things right. The screams draw me in. I need to save Neville. He's my friend and I promised to save him from the shadows.

But then the screams fade and the song blocks out everything else.

**_Follow Sweet Children_ **

Distantly I hear Harry yell my name and I feel him trying to grab hold of me. It hurts.

**_I'll Show Thee The Way_ **

There's something wet and warm on my face. Sliding and dripping from my nose, my eyes, my ear, my mouth.

**_Through All The Pains_ **

I see Harry's face in front of my own, his expression morphing into something anguished. I don't understand. It doesn't matter.

**_And The Sorrows._ **

He's shouting about blood.

Who's blood?

It's doesn't matter. I need to save Neville. The mirror needs my help to save Neville.

Suddenly Harry's face is ripped away from me. He disappears from my view. My mind. I can only see the mirror.

Voldemort snarls somewhere in the distance. Harry attacks with his magik. I can feel it searing through my soul. There's screaming of a different kind then. Furious, hateful screaming. But not from the mirror.

**_Weep Not Poor Children_ **

I'm close to the mirror now.

**_For Life Is This Way_ **

I can almost touch the iridescent silver surface.

**_Murdering Beauty_ **

The silver ocean ripples against my fingers

**_And Passion._ **

I hear them. Their voices surround me. Drown me in their despair.

_Save us Draco! Save us!_

_I will. I will._

I feel myself fall into the ocean of silver and I float down towards a bright blue light. Silver water fills my lungs and I close my eyes as I drown in an ocean of souls. The surface seems so far away.

**_Hush Now Dear Children_ **

I keep falling.

**_It Must Be This Way_ **

Falling.

**_To Weary of Life And_ **

Falling.

**_Deceptions_ **

The silver water tugs at my own soul, cutting into its root and attempting to tear me apart.

Taking my soul

 _Stealing_ it.

_NO!_

My soul doesn't belong to them. To it.

My soul belongs to me. And to Harry. He would never forgive me if I gave it away.

Harry. He needs me.

My eyes flash open.

I rip myself away from the voices. The mirror tries to bind me, to lure my soul back into its web of lies. But I keep thinking of Harry. He's more important than anything they, it, could offer me. I try to swim towards the surface. To break free of this silver and blue prison.

Blue light turns to red, and I feel the mirror's distress as it desperately tries to hold on to my mind and soul.

I just keep moving towards the surface.

I feel a moment of regret as Neville's face flashes in my mind. I see his soul withering away to dust, floating aimlessly. Before I breach the surface of the mirror I reach out and take hold of his soul in my hand. I feel the essence of his life pulse against my skin.

They can't have me. They can't have my friend. I won't allow it.

Neville may be dead, I can feel the truth of that in my heart, but he will not be trapped here like so many others before him. I would take them all if I could. But I can't, the others are already too far gone. Neville's soul is the only one that hasn't become silver yet. He can still be saved, if not his life, then the freedom of his death at least.

We all deserve freedom in death. It is the only promise Life can provide.

I break through the surface of the mirror and fall with a painful thump to grassy ground beneath it. With Neville's soul still clutched in my hand, I shove myself backwards, crawling as far away from the mirror as I can get.

I choke harshly, the blood all over my face streams down to cover my neck and chest. I spit out a mouthful of blood and press my forehead to the grass. I can only gasp for the next few seconds, my heart beats erratically inside my chest.

Literally, everything hurts. Inside and outside my body.

I turn onto my side and curl up into a foetal position. Only then do I finally let go of Neville's soul. It glows a magnificent gold and rises into the air. I watch Neville's soul rise higher and higher until it reaches the red sky above this strange world.

In the back of my head I hear a stark echo of Neville's voice,

" _Thank you."_

In a flash of golden light his soul bleeds into the world and disappears.

I feel both wonder and grief pool inside my chest.

I don't have much time to feel relieved however, because a moment later I hear a scream of outrage coming from the other side of the clearing. I force myself to sit up and look, even though my body feels half dead.

My heart clenches when I see Harry. He has deep gashes ripped open on his neck and it looks like Voldemort used his elemental power to break one of Harry's wrists. He still has ice clawing at his skin. There's also a big patch of blood seeping through Harry's clothes across his stomach. His tunic is ripped, as if a blade has cut through it. The jagged scar on Harry's forehead is bleeding profusely too, it appears to have been rubbed raw.

Harry looks worn down, but still strong and fierce as ever. His eyes shine like two crystals and I watch as he lashes out with his element. A large spike of ice flies at Voldemort and slices into his eye. Voldemort manages to stop the shard of ice before it pierces his skull and he screams in rage and pain.

Voldemort's black clothing is ripped all over and I see ice surrounding his feet. His veiny head has a cut slicing over it, and dark blood seeps from the wound. Voldemort reaches up and yanks the ice shard out of his eye. Puss and blood flow freely from the socket.

Magik is thick in the air, like dark sludge, and I realise they must have been fighting for quite some time. All the hairs on my body stand up in reaction to the hatred simmering between Harry and Voldemort.

"I will rip you apart, Potter!" Voldemort snarls, sending another wave of power towards Harry, knocks Harry off his feet. "I will watch as your blood curdles inside your veins. I will crush your heart under my foot and spit on your corpse, you filthy creature."

Harry growls, deep and low in his throat and rises to his knees. He flings his arms out to his sides and sends a massive arm of water out towards Voldemort. The thick arm wraps around Voldemort's neck and squeezes sharply. Water turns to ice and I hear the bones of Voldemort's spine cracking.

Voldemort overpowers Harry and takes control of the ice arm. He turns it back into water and sends it flying towards Harry. It strikes Harry in the chest and I practically feel a few of his ribs break. Harry's body is flung backwards and he hits the ground hard, rolling a few times before he stops.

" **Harry**!" I yell, unable to help myself. Panic floods through my body at the sight of Harry's broken body led in the grass.

Both Harry and Voldemort look at me then, as if just realising I'm here at all. Maybe they were too busy taking chunks out of each other to pay much attention to anything else.

Harry's eyes soften at the sight of me, and I read the relief in every line of his body. I even see him mouth the words ' _Thank the Gods'_. It reminds me of the phrase Hermione has taken on lately, and I briefly wonder what she would think of all this.

She'd probably say that I've taken my madness a step too far this time. I have to say that in this instance, I would agree with her.

When I look at Voldemort however, I see that his one good eye is full of something completely indescribable. It isn't the same hatred he seems to feel for Harry. It's something else, something unmistakably relatable to me. I don't know why, but I feel the same way about him. I can honestly say it's the oddest thing I've ever felt in my entire life.

Voldemort points a gnarled finger at me, his eyes burning into me, and says hollowly,

" _Who are you_?"

Who are you?

Who am I?

I stare back at Voldemort. I don't understand.

Fortunately, I don't have to feel confused for very long because Harry makes good use of Voldemort's distracted state. He lets out a veracious snarl and points his ring fingered hand at Voldemort. Then he calls out two words that will forever be seared into my mind from this moment forward,

" _Avada Kedavra_!"

A green light erupts between Harry and Voldemort. It's so bright that I have to shield my eyes from it. The green light crack open and black smoke that looks far too much like a Daemon thunders out. The smoke forces itself down Voldemort's throat.

I can barely stand to be anywhere near something so disturbingly evil. But there's nowhere to go, and I can't look away as Voldemort's eye turns glassy. Eyes so blue. Eyes so much like my own.

Voldemort falls, as if in slow motion, to the ground.

Dead.

Harry and I watch his lifeless body for a few long, torturously awful moments. Then Harry forces himself to look away. His face is set in stone, and even when he gets up, clearly in pain, his expression does not change.

I try to meet him half way as we move towards each other. We practically fall into each other, both of us crashing to the ground once more.

Harry drags me into an embrace and I curl up against his body, my face pressed into his neck. There's blood, both his and mine, and I taste the copper of it on my tongue. But I ignore that. Right now I just need Harry. I need to feel safe and loved for a few moments before I can face the horror of reality.

I realise suddenly that Harry is holding something clenched firmly in his hand. I reach for his hand and turn it over so I can see what it is.

It's a stone.

I peer up into Harry's face. Harry presses his forehead to mine and whispers,

" ** _I_** know who you are. You're Dragon. And you're **_mine_**."

I let out almost silent sob and press myself even further into Harry, wrapping myself around him as much as possible.

It doesn't burn to touch him anymore. My birthmark feels dead.

_How do you survive losing someone who is as much a part of you as you are?_

* * *

_Rest Now My Children_  
For Soon We'll Away  
into the Calm And  
The Quiet

_Here in My Garden_   
_Of Shadows_

* * *

** Hermione's P.O.V **

I hate the Fae.

Officially.

"How long do you think they're going to keep us in here?" Kit says, his dark eyes skitter along the roof of our tree cage.

I shrug, but it's Ajax who says dryly,

"Until they decide whether to murder us or not, I'd imagine."

Kit picks up a twig and lobes it at Ajax. With lightening fast reflexes Ajax snatches the twig out of the air before it can even come close to hitting him.

"Show off." Kit mutters, crossing his arms and kicking at the ground.

"Stop pouting," I tell him, "Magesith will make a deal with the Fae, and then Harry will get the stone. Easy."

Even I don't believe that. There's nothing 'easy' about this situation, and I'm honestly trying my best not to have complete meltdown. Even with all my Zanikai training, I have no idea how to handle being kidnapped by insanely powerful dark magikal creatures.

That was definitely **_not_** in the how-to handbook.

I feel awful for allowing myself to be captured. Now my brother is off doing Gods only know what to get that sodding stone for the Fae. If anything happens to Harry I know I'll never be able to forgive myself. I can only imagine how angry he'll be when he comes for me. I have no doubt that Harry will succeed in his task.

"Why do you think the Fae want Potter to get the stone specifically?" Ajax asks suddenly.

I look at him, confused by the question at first, but when I really consider it, I realise Ajax has a point. Why do the Fae want _Harry_ to get the stone? Apart from Harry's research into the Fae, he has no other connection to them that I am aware of.

"Because he's _Harry Potter_." Kit says, he sits down on a tree stump and looks between me and Ajax as he continues, "He's the super special snowflake who all the boys, girls and monsters want to play with."

"There has to be more to it than that," Ajax argues, shaking his head. His silver eyes flash, a pensive expression flattening out his features.

I have no clue what would interest the Fae about Harry. Unless it really is just because of Harry's past. Or possibly his unique amount of power. From what I could gather about the Fae, they are usually drawn to things that are unique, extraordinarily beautiful or dangerously violent. Harry could fit into any one of those categories.

But that doesn't explain why the Fae would trust Harry with retrieving the Desetine stone.

"Maybe the Fae know something we don't." I say, more to myself than to Ajax and Kit.

We all lapse into silence again after that, and it's probably another twenty minutes later when Kit suddenly pierces the quiet.

"I feel like we should be able to fight our way out of this." He stands up and starts pacing.

Ajax scoffs. Like, he actually scoffs. I didn't think him capable of something so normal. It's off-putting.

"Even fully trained Zanikai don't mess around with Fae magik." Ajax tells us, "Their power is just too unpredictable."

I sigh heavily and cross my arms over my chest,

"Yes, well, all we need to do is wait for Harry to get the Desetine stone." I hate that I can't do anything to help him. But I'm not stupid enough to try and escape this cage. We're in Fae territory and they have the upper hand.

Ajax narrows his eyes at me,

"You all keep talking about a stone. What exactly is the Desetine stone, and what does it have to do with anything else that's going on?"

Oh crap.

Kit sends a slightly panicked look my way, and I return the sentiment whole heartedly. I was hoping not to have to explain everything to Ajax about the Desetine stone and the tithe ritual, but I can't exactly lie to him outright now that he's asked. Can I? Harry would say yes. Draco would say no. I'm not sure what I would say.

I imagine my brothers like an angel and a devil on my shoulders, arguing the pros and cons of telling Ajax the whole truth. I almost want to laugh at the image, but I know Ajax would not appreciate my amusement. Not in such a serious situation.

Ajax continues to watch me suspiciously whilst I desperately try to come up with something that sounds both vague and believable.

Thankfully I'm saved from having to tell him anything at all when there's a sudden loud rustling sound coming from the far end of our cage. Ajax, Kit and I immediately go into attack mode and ready ourselves for a fight. I'm not sure what we'll actually do if the Fae come at us with hostile intent, but we'll at least be ready for them if they do.

A burst of illumined light beams in through a big hole as the branches tare themselves apart.

Adrenaline rushes through me, and I narrow my eyes at the hole of light. I let out sigh of pure relief when I see Harry standing there, bathed in moonlight. My relief is almost instantly replaced by confusion when Draco comes to stand beside Harry. I take a step forward, and I gasp of shock bursts out of my mouth when I get a better look at my brothers.

I run towards them, not caring about the Fae or anything else besides Harry and Draco. When I reach them, Draco pulls me into a tight embrace. I want to squeeze him back, but I'm afraid to. Draco's face is covered in thick looking blood. I can see trails of dried blood coming from his eyes, nose and ears. It's a truly frightening sight.

I pull back and try to get a better look at him. Draco smiles at me, but the smile is brittle and doesn't reach his strange eyes at all.

"Are you alright?" Draco asks me.

I stare at him incredulously.

"Me? Forget me for sodding hells sake, Drake. Are _you_ ok?"

I grip his shoulders and shake him a little. Draco blanches slightly and shrugs one shoulder.

"I'll be fine. Bolt took the worst of it." He nods his head towards Harry.

I force myself to look at Harry then, and my insides almost convulse. To say he looks half dead would be an understatement. Harry is covered in blood, cuts and bruises. The wounds on his neck appear especially severe, and the lightening bolt scar on his head has clearly been bleeding quite badly. It looks almost like a fresh scar now.

"Oh, HP, what happened?" I can feel the heat of tears threatening to burn my eyes. I reach out and touch his arm, not sure if he's too injured to be hugged.

Harry's expression grave and impassive. He takes my hand in his and squeezes.

"I'll tell you everything later." His gaze travels over my shoulder to Kit and Ajax, who are both staring at the three of us like we've grown extra heads. I notice then, over Harry's shoulder, that they aren't alone either. Weasley, Bell and Zabini are standing a short distance away by a large tree. Also with them is Azure, Draco's dragon.

Weasley and Bell look a little freaked out. Zabini just appears bored, but the tightness of his body suggests otherwise. Azure just seems content now that his bondmate is apparently no longer in danger.

I'm going almost insane with the need to know what happened, but I bite my tongue and simply nod. If Harry's holding off telling me in front of the others then there must be a reason for it.

"Do the Fae have the Desetine stone?" I ask quietly.

Draco nods at that and says,

"Yeah, Magesith took it to them. Then the Fae gave us this location so we could come and get you." Draco's eyes quite literally sparkle at the mention of the magikal cat. So at least he can still be excited about magikal creatures.

"Let's get back to the castle then," I say firmly. Before my brain explodes from the millions and millions of questions I need to ask.

...

I expected pretty much all hell to break loose when we arrived back at the castle, but...nothing really happened at all. Professor Dumbledore was there waiting for us at the entrance, along with Eos. The rest of the crystal palace appeared dead, everyone in it apparently still asleep. It seemed impossible to me that so much could have happened within the forbidden forest, and yet our school was completely normal.

Professor Dumbledore was the only person aware that the Desetine stone was missing. Eos knew that Kit, Ajax and I were missing because there are so few Zanika's training right now. It would have been pretty difficult not to miss our presence.

Harry and Draco were immediately spirited off to the hospital wing for emergency treatment. I didn't want them to go without me, but Eos insisted that I go to Dumbledore's office like the others. Harry seemed to want to protest, but Draco calmed him down with a hand on his shoulder and a few whispered words in his ear.

I got dragged away to Professor Dumbledore's office along with Ajax, Kit, Bell, Weasley and Zabini. We were then practically interrogated by Eos. She fired question after question at us. I refused to say anything until I'd spoken to Harry and Draco. Surprisingly the others followed suit and pretty much denied all knowledge of anything.

Eos got frustrated after about an hour, and told us she'd talk to us individually tomorrow. I think she knows as well as I do that she won't be getting anything out of us tomorrow either.

Professor Dumbledore stayed quiet during the entire inquisition, but I could tell he was reading our body language the whole time. When we were officially dismissed, Professor Dumbledore asked me to stay behind. Eos led the other out of his office. Kit quite clearly didn't want to leave my side, but I nodded at him to let him know that I would be fine.

Hopefully.

I made eye contact with Ajax as he left the room. He appeared concerned, but not overly worried. That relaxed me for some reason. Maybe just because I trust his instincts. If Ajax thinks Dumbledore isn't about to beat me with his beard, then there's nothing really to worry about.

"Miss Granger." Professor Dumbledore says, his eyes sparkling in that strange way of his. "Please take a seat." He nods towards the big marble chair on the other side of his desk.

I reluctantly sit down and give Professor Dumbledore a tight smile.

After a full minute of uncomfortable silence and him watching me and me pretending not to notice that he's watching me, Professor Dumbledore finally says,

"Miss Granger, do you believe in true evil?"

The question catches me so off guard that for a second all I can do is stare at him like an idiot. I manage to collect myself after a few moment though and reply carefully,

"I don't really know, Professor. I think the Daemons are evil in their own way."

I'm not ultimately sure what he means though.

Professor Dumbledore raises a thoughtful eyebrow at me.

"It makes sense that your mind would automatically go to Daemons when talking about evil. But I was meaning more in regards to people. Do you believe that a person can be truly evil?"

I can't decide if that's even more confusing, or less so. Either way, I find myself shaking my head.

"No, sir, I don't believe that a person can be evil and nothing else."

I suppose it's Draco's influence that makes me think that. He would say that we're all people, and that everyone has wants and desires and things they hate and things they love. People are complicated creatures and always will be. There is no black and white.

Professor Dumbledore leans forward on his desk and claps his hands together in front of him. His eyes bore into me and I try my best not to fidget.

"It is interesting that you would think so, Miss Granger."

He then continues to stare at me for another few minutes without saying anything more. I begin to feel rather exposed, and I wonder if he's attempting to read my mind. I avoid meeting his eyes.

"Why do you ask Professor?" I say to break the silence.

Dumbledore tilts his head to one side and smiles at me.

"I think Mr Potter and Mr Black would like to see you before you go to bed, Miss Granger. I will make sure the hospital wing know to expect you."

It's a clear dismissal, and I'm all too happy to take it.

"Thank you, sir." I say, giving him a tight nod. Dumbledore simply smiles a me in response.

I try not to seem too eager as I leave Dumbledore's office and make my way over to the hospital wing on Hogwarts. I feel like it takes forever to get there. When I finally do, Miss Poppy meets me at the entrance and gives me a wary look over.

"You can visit, but only for a short time, the boys need their rest." Miss Poppy warns me.

I stalk past her with a sound of agreement. I don't care what anyone says. I'm not leaving their sides until I know the truth of what happened tonight in the forbidden forest.

I find Harry and Draco sitting on beds that are close to each other. I'm not sure if they were already that way or if the boys pushed them closer together on purpose.

Draco grins at me, the blood now gone from his face. A crackle of lightening spirals around the black ring inside his iris. I feel relieved that Draco is still capable of looking excited to see me. I'd been worried for a moment in the forest that he had lost some vital spark inside himself. I'm glad to see that I was wrong about that.

Harry appears far more subdued as usual. His wounds look both worse and better in the light of the hospital wing. His wrist is bound with gauze and the cuts on his neck have been given stiches. I wonder why he didn't let the healers use Helchamic to heal him completely, but that question doesn't even break the top hundred of all the questions I actually want to ask him.

I move to sit on the end of Harry's bed. Draco comes to sit on Harry's bed as well. My voice is low when I say,

"So, tell me."

Draco and Harry exchange an intense look full of some deep emotion that I am not part of. I'm quite sure I don't want to be part of it either. Both Draco and Harry lean in closer to me, and then, they tell me everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading, please let me know what you thought of this chapter! xxx
> 
>  
> 
> A/N-I just wanted to explain one thing. In this chapter when Harry calls Draco 'mine' he doesn't really mean it in a romantic sense. Harry and Draco's relationship in this story goes far beyond sexual or familial. The reason for their connection will be revealed, but not for some time yet. 
> 
> Disclaimer-Lyrics used in this story are from the song 'Come little children' by Erutan, but I also used some lyrics from the version sung in the movie 'Hocus Pocus'.


	17. Years End: Tyson The Fourth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AT ALL. LIKE NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE. BUT JK ROWLING DOES, SO, YAY FOR HER. ;)

**Harry's P.O.V**

_Avada Kedavra_

I open my eyes and grit my teeth, pushing away the dark fury that threatens to overwhelm me. Every time I close my eyes all I see is Voldemort's face. I see him laughing sadistically at me. I see him staring Draco in confusion and anger. I see him attacking me with so much power that it genuinely seemed impossible to survive fighting him.

I see the life wretched from his body as he died by my hand. My magik.

Voldemort set up the tithe ritual. Voldemort is directly responsible for the death of three children. Voldemort tried to take Draco. Voldemort is dead. I am the one who killed him.

I repeat those five things to myself over and over again. I've been doing that for the last few months of school. It's the end of the year now, and soon we'll be going home.

Dalia and Adam still don't know what happened to us in the forest that night. The only people who know what really happened apart from me are Draco and Hermione. Our friends only know part of the story. The Professors know even less, much to their chagrin.

Although I think Dumbledore knows more than he's admitting. In fact, I think he always knew more. It's disconcerting to consider the idea that Dumbledore knew Voldemort was back, and that he may have intentionally let me go off to confront him. I hate not knowing the truth, but I'll be dammed if I'm going to ask him.

Since that night, Dumbledore has only come to see me once. It was a few days after, and I was still in the hospital wing of Hogwarts.

_~flashback~_

_I'm sitting up in the hospital bed when I begin to feel Dumbledore's magik getting closer. My hackles immediately rise and I almost feel the need to flee. Hermione told me how she and the others were questioned extensively about what happened in the forbidden_ _forest_ _._

_Thankfully, none of them were willing to admit anything. Most likely out of either fear or loyalty. I know in Blaise's case it was loyalty, and self-preservation. Slytherin's never admit to more than they have to if they can help it. They also never turn on each other unless it's the only way to protect themselves._

_The other houses think Slytherin has no concept of loyalty, when in reality we hold our allegiance close and protected, like a nest of snakes._

_When Dumbledore practically glides into the room, I force myself not to react instinctively. It wouldn't do for the powerful wizard to know what I think of him. I can't have Dumbledore actively working against me. I have to lull him into a false sense of security. I need him to trust me, or as much as a man like Dumbledore can ever trust anybody._

_I have to wait until Dumbledore lets his guard down. I have to wait until he bares his throat to me. That is when I shall strike._

_So, instead of glaring at him and knocking him off his feet with my magik, I settle back against the wall and reinforce the walls inside my mind._

_Dumbledore actually gives me a small smile, and my skin tries to crawl off my bones. His eyes twinkle, which makes me wonder if he does that on purpose. Everything about this man is suspicious to me. I only know what I've observed from a distance, but even that has given me a good idea of how he operates._

_Now, I'm not one to scorn manipulation. If used correctly, manipulation can be a substantial tool when one seeks to obtain or create the seemingly impossible. But I also know the dangers that lurk behind such thinking. A person can lose themselves in a lie if they don't know how to handle the results of manipulating a person or situation._

_You can convince yourself of almost anything if you are willing to disregard any form of reason or logic. People who believe themselves to be fighting for what is 'right' and 'just' often fall into such traps._

_Not that it is necessarily **wrong** to fight for what you believe in. Draco does so on a daily basis. But one must always hold onto reality. Fantasy can be an alluring and seductive monster in its darkness, and many have fallen prey to its piercing jaws. _

_I strive to never become one of those lost souls. And for as long as I live I will try to keep both Hermione and Draco from the same fate also._

_Dumbledore comes to sit down on my bed next to my legs. I resist the urge to scoot even further away from him. Dumbledore stares at me, his eyes owlish and observant. It feels odd to have him watching me this way, like he's trying to see past my skin and into my body. If I find out he has x-ray vision we're going to have serious problems._

_Neither of us speak for a long while. I'm suddenly grateful that Hermione and Draco aren't here with me. I'm quite certain that Dumbledore would be behaving quite differently if they were. But then, that makes me wonder if he purposefully waited until I was alone to speak with me._

_Draco and Hermione have been reluctant to leave my side since we got back. I'm not sure if they thought I would be attacked in their absence, or if I would be the one attacking someone. I definitely haven't been in the best mood for the last few days and my magik has been reacting in kind, so I can see where they'd get that impression._

_Eventually though I managed to convince them to go, if for no other reason than to get our plan of action straight with the others. I didn't trust anyone not to break down and admit the whole story to our professors. Or at least their version of the events that unfolded that night._

_"You show remarkable restraint, Mr Potter, for someone so powerful and so…young." Dumbledore says finally, his voice low and soothing. It reminds me of hot melting toffee._

_I want to ask him what he means by that convoluted statement, but I know the answer would not be worth me showing interest. It's likely that he is trying to draw me out of whatever protective shell he thinks I'm hiding under._

_I'm not hiding. I never hide. I just wait._

_It's far more satisfying when your enemy reveals their weakness to you in reaction to your own subtle indifference._

_Human beings find silence uncomfortable. They fear it. That's probably why there's so much noise in the world. Spero told me that not long after we'd met, and in that moment I'd wondered what it would be like to see the world from the point of view of a snake._

_Simpler, I'd imagine._

_In the end all I say in response is,_

_"Thank you, sir." I keep my face deceptively passive. But not aggressively so. I don't want him to think I'm hiding anything, even though I most definitely am._

_Something shifts in Dumbledore's eyes. It's not quite irritation, I do not believe Dumbledore would allow himself to feel such an emotion, or at least he would never show it. But he clearly isn't pleased by my reluctance to react in the way he expects._

_Well that's just too bad. I refuse to smirk even though I want to._

_"Your friends have been keeping a close eye on you since the incident in the forbidden forest." Dumbledore says, one of his white eyebrows arch up slightly. Almost as if he's asking a question._

_He knows. He **must** know._

_I almost snap at him that Hermione and Draco aren't just my 'friends', they're my **family** , and that if he ever does anything to harm them I will destroy him the same way I did Voldemort._

_Avada Kedavra!_

_Green light flashes behind my eyes and the smell of death wafts up my nose. I fight the need to gag and keep my mouth shut._

_"What incident are you referring to, sir?" I ask amicably. If he wants something out of me then first he's going to have to admit that he knew about Voldemort. Or at the very least suspected._

_Dumbledore doesn't appear taken a back at all, and that only makes me angry. I push the emotion down though and concentrate on reading Dumbledore's expression. He looks calm and oddly condescending._

_But his voice is careful and almost delighted when he says,_

_"Oh, dear boy, I am well aware of what you faced in the forest that night. Voldemort possessed poor Professor Quirrell. Quite unfortunate really, he was such a clever man."_

_Not clever enough to stop himself from being possessed though apparently._

_"You knew Voldemort was possessing one of your professors?" I frown at him, unable to help myself._

_He knew and he did nothing. Did he know about the Fae? The tithe ritual?_

_Dumbledore doesn't answer my question, instead he says,_

_"You killed him. Voldemort."_

_My eyes narrow against my will and I ask,_

_"How would you know something like that?"_

_I know neither Draco nor Hermione would have admitted such a thing, and they are the only two who would be aware of it._

_Dumbledore appears pleased once more and he ducks his head slightly,_

_"The forbidden forest whispers its secrets. Once must only open their ears and listen."_

_It sounds like a riddle, and I despise riddles._

_"The forbidden forest would do well to keep out of other people's secrets." I say firmly. I'm not completely sure what I mean by it, but the sentiment is clear._

_Dumbledore regards me thoughtfully for a moment, and then says,_

_"Understood, Mr Potter."_

_Somehow, I doubt it._

_~flashback~_

Dumbledore didn't stay long after that. I was surprised that he didn't ask me more questions about what happened between me and Voldemort. Hermione had asked enough questions to give me a headache. Twice.

I know it's just her way of handling terrible news. Whenever Hermione has to deal with something she doesn't like, she gathers as much information as she can about it. I don't know if it's because the knowledge makes her feel more prepared or what, but it's not the worst quirk a person could have.

" _Mr Potter_ , are you listening at all to what I'm trying to teach you, or might I just as well be speaking to a rock?" Professor Snape barks at me.

I silently berate myself for practically daydreaming in front of Professor Snape. This is our last private session before the end of the school year, and I'm going to end up ruining it by not concentrating.

I dip my head apologetically,

"I'm sorry, sir. I allowed myself to become distracted, it will not happen again."

Professor Snape watches me, his lips curling into a sneer, but he doesn't shout at me like he would if we were in an actual class. I would never say that Professor Snape is more relaxed during our private sessions, because he most certainly is not, but he does treat me differently. For example, instead of yelling at me for being an incompetent imbecile when I get something wrong, he will simply stare at me until I tell him what I don't understand.

"I expect your full attention during these sessions Mr Potter, and absolutely nothing less. If you wish to continue these sessions next year then I will need a greater show of commitment from you." Professor Snape tells me, his expression cold, but surprisingly encouraging at the same time.

I don't fool myself into thinking that Professor Snape particularly likes me, but it does seem as if he no longer _dislikes_ me. I'll call that a win, as Draco would say.

Uh, speaking of Draco, he's somehow managed to convince Dalia to let him bring Azure home with for the school holidays. I really should have argued against such a ludicrous idea, and I would have in the past. But I've felt myself soften towards the young dragon ever since that night in the forest. If it hadn't of been for Azure, I might not have known that Draco was in danger, and I would most likely have not found him in time.

So, yes, I owe the bloody dragon. I even helped by asking Professor Snape to teach me how to shield magik from muggle eyes. Professor Snape reluctantly showed me how to cast a strong illusion that would make Azure look like a dog to muggles. I think that will also help Dalia handle the concept of having an actual real life dragon in our home for the summer.

Of course, Draco caught Dalia during a weak moment, so that might be why she agreed to it. About a month after me and a group of my school mates had been scarred for life by either the Fae or Voldemort, Dalia had given birth.

Adam and Dalia's baby is a boy, and we decided, as a family, to name him Tyson Adam Brooks Jr. Or, alternatively, just A.J.

I'm looking forward to see our new baby brother, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't also nervous. Clearly having a baby in the house is going to change things. I'm not sure how I feel about the dynamics of our household shifting. But, as Hermione said, Dalia and Adam have done so much for us, the least we can do is support them with the new baby.

I bow my head slightly to Professor Snape and say politely,

"I would very much like for our sessions to continue next year, Professor. Thank you for the opportunity."

Professor Snape eyes me speculatively for a few moments, his dark, raven eyes boring into me. I struggle not to fidget. Professor Snape is the only one who can make me feel so uncomfortably exposed. I admire him for the skill, but loathe that it affects me at all even after a full year of being taught by the man.

I wait a while longer for Professor Snape to speak, refusing to be the one who breaks the tense silence first. After what feels like hours but must have only been minutes, Professor Snape continues to the explain the theory of 'Disillusion in dimeters'. This is when an illusion is created to shield against certain noises at different distances.

I find the whole idea fascinating, and despite my worries about Dumbledore and what this summer will bring, I am able to concentrate on my work.

**Hermione's P.O.V**

"Remember to keep up your training exercises during the summer." Ajax warns me, "Even a few months of disregard can set you back."

"Yeah, and then Sax will beat you with his mighty fists of fury!" Kit exclaims, throwing his fisted hands up and waving them around wildly.

I roll my eyes and pat his shoulder indulgently. Ajax just makes a sound of aggravation. Ever since that night in the forest Ajax has been behaving more and more…..normal. If that's the right word. At least he shows emotion more easily around me and Kit.

Maybe once you've been hijacked by Fae and kept hostage inside a branch prison, there no longer seems any point in hiding yourself.

"You'll write to me over the summer, won't you?" Kit asks, his mouth curved upwards into a joyful grin.

I smile at Kit, attempting to seem like I'm paying attention. In truth my mind has been occupied quite sufficiently for the last few months. I just can't stop thinking about what happened that night in the forest.

Harry was forced and manipulated into fighting the man who murdered his parents. Even just the thought of it is sickening. I can already tell that it's affecting him. Harry has been withdrawing even more from me and Draco since that night. Maybe he thinks we haven't noticed, but we most certainly have.

I can't even imagine how horrifically awful it must have been for Harry to face Voldemort. I hate that he had to go through that. I also hate that there was nothing I could have done to stop it from happening. I know there's very little use in wishing I could undo the past, but those guilty thoughts just won't leave my mind alone.

I could have lost both Harry and Draco in a single night because of that madman. I cannot fathom how I would have handled such a loss without something inside my mind shattering. Draco and Harry are too much a part of me. I refuse to lose them, especially to vile creatures like Voldemort.

All I can do is train harder, study anything and everything that could potentially be useful, and do whatever it takes to protect my brothers from harm. What's the point in being some kind of warrior if I can't even accomplish that?

"Of course I'll write to you, Kit. You're not getting rid of me that easily." I say, bumping my shoulder against Kit's.

Kit looks pleased, and I'm glad he feels our friendship is important enough to warrant such enthusiasm. I want to keep in touch with both Kit and Ajax over the summer. I'm not sure if Ajax will actually answer my letters, but I'll keep sending them to him anyway. He and I are going to friends whether Ajax likes it or not.

One thing I don't quite understand is Ajax hasn't asked for more details about what happened in the forest that night. I've been trying not to behave too warily around Ajax, but it's hard not to when at any moment he could demand impossible answers to complicated questions. It's not that I want to lie to Ajax, it's just that I can't betray Harry's confidence to anyone, not even my friends.

Kit accepted my silence on the matter rather easily, but then, Kit is not the kind of person to hold a grudge. He seemed rather content to swallow my evasive half answers and continue on like nothing has happened at all. I don't know if that will always be the case, but it's nice all the same.

"Are you staying with your Dad all summer?" I ask Kit.

Kit shrugs one shoulder and his expression becomes tight. He never really likes to talk about his father with me. Or with anyone actually. I'm not sure if that's because he has nothing really to say, or if there's some darker reason why he doesn't like to talk about him. Either way, I try not to put Kit in a position where he clearly feels uncomfortable.

"Probably. My mother is…busy." Kit finally says. Even a complete idiot would be able to read the cold detachment in Kit's voice.

I'm not ultimately sure what Kit's relationship is like with his mother either. He talks about her even less than he talks about his Dad.

Ajax swoops in to rescue the conversation by saying,

"My Godfather and I will be spending most of our time in America. Regulas has friends there who will be able to keep me with them even when he's out working"

Kit appears to brighten immediately now that the attention has been turned away from his family life.

"Where in America are you going?" Kit asks.

"Boston at first I think, but we'll probably head to New York for at least a couple of weeks." Ajax says.

"How about you Hermione, will you be at home all summer?"

I smile a little at the thought of being at home for the whole of the summer holidays. I'm looking forward to having some time for myself. Although I have a feeling that Dalia will want us to spend as much time together as possible before we go back to school next year.

I know Adam definitely wants to take our usual trip to Bournemouth. We usually rent a place down near the beaches for at least a week.

"I'm not sure exactly what we'll do. Plans might be different because of the new baby."

"Ah yeah, you've got a baby brother now. How do you feel about that?" Kit smiles knowingly at me.

I answer simply,

"There are way too many boys in my life."

….

There's an end of year feast in the great hall, and I decide to skip it in favour of walking through the grounds of Hogwarts one last time. I know I shouldn't be out here, and I'll likely get a good scolding from Eos if I'm caught, but I just can't stand the thought of being around so many people at the moment. My mind is too full of important half thoughts to be able to handle mindless prattle, even from the other Olympians.

Although about half an hour into my walk, I hear the unmistakable footsteps of Draco running up behind me. I quell the instinct to lash out at him when he gets too close. My Olympian blood pounds with unreleased violence and I worry sometimes that there may come a time when I can no longer conceal it from people. Namely Dalia and Adam.

They still don't know the full extent of my lineage, and I'm honestly not looking forward to explaining it to them. Dalia won't like it at all. She hates anything that puts any of us in danger. That's why she's still holding firm on not allowing Draco to try out for the Gryffindor Xenta team next year.

I'm quite sure that Draco is going to spend the entire summer trying to change her mind. He'll probably succeed too. Draco is nothing if not persistently annoying when he wants something.

Speaking of….

"Hey Herman, I thought I saw you skulking out here. Is this part of your ninja training? Learning stealth mode." Draco's pale, beaming face appears at my left shoulder.

His strange eyes crackle with emotion. I'm assuming its happiness due to the grin splitting open his face.

"I'm not training to be a ninja, Drake. I'm training to be a Zanikai." I say, tacking on an exasperated sigh for Draco's benefit.

Draco's mega watt grin doesn't droop even a little bit as he replies,

"What's the sodding difference? You both wear all black and go around making a very serious face almost constantly." Draco pulls a mock stern face as he says the last part, his lips pouting and distorting his voice.

"First of all, you sound ridiculous." I shake my head at him, not willing to show my amusement. "Second of all, the difference is that Zanikai's actually exist."

"Ninja's exist." Draco argues. He's practically skipping beside me as we 'walk' through the grounds.

It's getting a bit dark, but the night air is pleasantly warm. Or at least warmish compared to most nights out here. I feel a chilling breeze rush past my face. My tight body armour keeps me safe from the cold.

"Ninja's aren't real Drake."

"They could be."

"I'm not having this argument with you again."

"Good, then concede that I am right about the fact that there _could_ be ninjas."

"Never."

"Shun the non-believer!" Draco wiggles his fingers at me and hiss-whispers, " _Shun!_ "

I give him my most bored expression. In fact I put so much bored and unimpressed into my expression that I become the epitome of bored and unimpressed. I'm hoping it will stop Draco from continuing with his ridiculousness.

I really should know better by now.

Draco dances a few steps in front of me and even as we walk he holds his hands out in front of him, like he's trying to ward me off. I take few quicker paces forward, and Draco responds automatically by speeding up. He's walking backwards, and I can already see this ending in disaster.

Every time I try to get closer to Draco, he backs away even faster.

"Drake, stop being a prat!" I shout at him angrily.

"I shun you and your blasphemous ways!" Draco calls out, his face tipped upwards. He flaps his hands in my direction.

Idiot.

"Thanking ninjas aren't real isn't blasphemous Drake, you moron!" I'm yelling now. I do not appreciate being goaded into yelling. But I swear only Draco can make so damn absolutely livid this quickly without even really trying.

Draco starts laughing in the face of my fury and it makes me want to kill him. I could snap him in half and bury him out here. No one would know.

Nah, Harry would probably know. He knows everything. It's annoying. He's annoying. _Everything_ is annoying.

Draco shakes his head at me despairingly when he finally stops laughing, and I stop imagining his untimely demise at my hand. Sort of.

He fixes me with an almost sombre look and says,

"Woah, you ninjas can be ** _so_** sensitive sometimes."

That's it. Dragon boy's going down.

I let out a roar of outrage. Draco is already running away from me.

I chase him through the grounds for another twenty minutes. I even pretend that there's a chance he could escape me. But we both my know I can move faster than any human.

Eventually I tackle him to the grass and sit on him.

Victory!

"Ruddy hell, you're even heavier than before. It must be all that ninja muscle." Draco says from beneath me.

"I dislike you. And your face." I hiss at him.

"Yeah, well, I dislike your fat ninja arse sitting on me, but you don't hear me whining about it." Draco replies nonchalantly, as if I'm not actually sitting on him outside in the dark. Weirdo.

"I hope all the bugs that live in this grass rise up and eat you." I say honestly.

"That doesn't sound like a very impressive end for me." Draco replies thoughtfully.

"Only you would care about how impressive your death was." I mutter, annoyed.

There's a long pause…..and then,

"Hermon."

"Yes Drake?"

"You are a BAMF."

"I know."

Another long pause. And then.

"Drake."

"Yes Hermon?"

"You're a BAMF too."

"I know."

**Draco's P.O.V**

"Black." Weedy sneers at me.

I made the mistake of making eye contact with Weedy and now I must accept the consequences.

"Weedy." I reply brightly. It usually irritates him all the more when I'm nice to him. It throws his tiny evil mind off kilter

Weedy looks incensed about something. It's funny.

"My name is Theodore Knott." He bites out.

I widen my eyes and raise both of my eyebrows,

"Oh really? Are you _sure_?" I ask doubtfully.

"Of course I'm sure, you imbecile!" Weedy snarls at me.

I stroke my pretend old man beard and watch Weedy through slightly narrowed eyes.

"I could have sworn your name was Weedy." I say elusively.

"My name is not _Weedy_ , it is Theodore Knott." Weedy snaps furiously, his milky eyes flashing with untamed and boring wrath.

I frown at him and say indignantly,

"Well then why in the world did you tell me your name was Weedy?"

"I **_didn't_**!" Weedy shouts, his hands are now balled into fists at his sides.

He seems upset. It's definitely not a good look for him. Makes him look like an angry blade of dead grass.

I think about telling him that, but I don't want to be mean. Even Weedy's don't deserve to be told just how Weedy they look.

 _"We don't like this Wizard do we?"_ Azure ask from his place next to me on the train platform.

We're all meant to be getting onto the train, but I've been side-tracked by the great pain in my arse that is Weedy.

_"No we don't like him. Feel free to turn him into an icicle."_

Azure makes a growly sound at Weedy and huffs out a few icy breaths. Weedy jumps backwards with a yelp. He shoots a glare at me.

"You and your dragon are freaks, Black. Everyone knows it." Weedy says nastily.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I don't know exactly what Weedy's problem with me is, but I've just about had enough of his mean comments and barbed insults. I almost wish I was like Harry so that I could come up with some kind of really good revenge plan, but I don't actually want to hurt Weedy.

I don't care what he thinks about me. But do care if he insults Azure.

"Oh shut up, Weedy. Nobody shivs a git what you have to say."

Azure mock pounces at Weedy, which causes him to trip over his own luggage and fall flat on his arse. I press my lips together so I won't laugh. Azure makes a chuffing sound which I'm pretty sure is a dragon's version of laughter.

Weedy sits up on the ground and shoots lazer beams of hatred at me from his eyes. I take a step forward and offer him my hand anyway. Weedy gives my hand a look of disgust and clambers ungracefully to his feet.

"Next year I'm going to destroy you, Black." Weedy growls at me, and then he stalks away with a final wary glance at Azure.

_"I think he and I are going to be great friends one day."_

_"I think that child is going to try and have you assassinated at his first opportunity."_ Azure replies dryly.

_"Yeah, you're probably right."_

"Oi, Draco!"

I turn at the sound of my name being called and I see Ron hanging out of the door of a carriage.

"We found an empty one, come on!" Ron gestures for me to hurry up.

I grin at my friend and drag my trunk over to him. Ron helps me get my trunk into the train and I climb in after it. Azure follows me, jumping up and into the carriage with ease.

Katie smiles at me from her seat on the bench. Hermione and Harry have their heads bent together as they whisper about something privately. They both glance up at me when I enter the carriage, but they almost immediately go back to whispering.

I let them get on with it and sit down next to Ron on the opposite bench. Azure comes to lie down at my feet. He curls his tail up so it presses against his stomach. I almost scratch his head, but then I remember the last time I did that and how outraged Azure was. He's already unhappy about posing as a dog for the entire summer holidays.

 _'I am a majestic creature of pure and glorious magnificence, not a sodding dog!'_ he'd growled at me.

"Did Professor Dumbledore try and talk to you again before we left?" Katie asks me, her expression morphing into one of concern.

Katie's family are Purebloods who have always followed the light. Since Dumbledore is a light Lord, that pretty much means that she was raised to believe that he was a hero and a great wizard. Because of this, I was unsure of how she would feel about my suspicions towards Dumbledore.

Harry made it clear to both me and Hermione that Dumbledore is not to be trusted. Before…before **_that night_** I would have thought Harry was exaggerating, but now…now I think maybe Harry was right all along.

Dumbledore practically admitted to Harry that he knew Voldemort was back in some form or another. I can't stand the idea that Harry was put in danger on purpose by a man who is supposed to be protecting us. Not to mention how Hermione, her friends, my friends and I got dragged into that horrible and dangerous situation as well.

Harry and Hermione have stopped whispering now. They're looking at me, clearly waiting for me to answer Katie's question.

"I think he wanted too, but I told him I had a meeting and that if he wanted to talk to me then he would have to make an appointment. Then I ran away before he could say anything." I say finally.

Ron snorts in amusement. Katie gapes at me. Harry just rolls his eyes as if he expected as much. Hermione is already turning away from me and shaking her head.

"You told _Professor Dumbledore_ that he would have to make an _appointment_." Katie says incredulously.

I shrug one shoulder and reply,

"Well yeah. I can't just go around making exceptions for people for no reason. It wouldn't be fair to everyone else."

"Professor Dumbledore is not _people_! He's the ruddy Headmaster!" Katie's voice has gone all shrill.

I frown at her and waggle my finger,

"Hey now, Headmaster's are people too. They eat and poop and they have hopes and dreams of their own. I hear sometimes they even get married, and I personally don't have a problem with that. Gods, don't be so Headphobic, Kat."

Katie does more of that gaping thing she seems so fond of at the moment. Ron is cracking up in the corner, his eyes watering from laughing so hard.

"You're going to give the poor girl an aneurysm Dragon, stop it." Harry says, giving me a disapproving look. Spero suddenly slithers out from Harry's sleeve and moves up to curl around his neck.

My own snake Vita is off somewhere on the train already. He likes to explore. Plus ever since I introduced them Azure and Vita have been at odds. It was hate at first sight, and whenever they're together they bicker constantly. Of course neither of them would ever call it bickering because ' _reptiles never bicker, as it would be beneath them'_. Apparently only lesser creatures, like humans, bicker. At least according to Vita and Azure.

Harry hisses something in a low voice to Spero that I can't quite hear. Ron and Katie both tense up at the sight of Spero, and even more so when Harry starts speaking parstletongue. I'm not sure why, but for some reason Vita and Spero make my friends feel uncomfortable. It weirds them out even when I'm the one speaking parstletongue.

I find myself smiling at them both reassuringly, and they return my smile tentatively. Since that night in the forbidden forest, Katie and Ron have been even more wary of Harry. At first they appeared almost frightened of him, and I'd wondered what Harry could have possibly done to invoke that reaction in my friends.

I didn't want to ask Harry about it obviously, because I wasn't sure how to make it not sound like an accusation. I'm not even sure if it should be an accusation or not. I can imagine how infuriated he must have been when he found out I was in danger. Harry changes almost completely when he's in protective mode. If I didn't know Harry so well I think even I would be afraid of him.

But I do know Harry, and so I trust him. I trust him to never hurt me. On purpose anyway.

I haven't been able to sleep for the last few months, not properly at least. Every time I close my eyes at night all I hear is that haunting song the mirror used to entice me, and all I see are Voldemort's eyes.

I don't dream about the blood or the pain or the souls. I dream about Voldemort's cobalt blue eyes staring at me. Eyes so much like my own. Just staring. Like he can't quite believe I exist. Like I'm some new unexplored form of magic.

I can't even say they're nightmares, because they aren't. At least they don't feel like my nightmares usually do.

I've almost told Harry about those dreams so many times. But I don't even know how to explain them to myself, let alone anyone else. Apart from Walter of course. He and I have been over my dreams countless times since that night, but even Walter seems unsure as to why my mind would be focusing so much on Voldemort's eyes.

Maybe it's just one of those things I'll never understand. I would be fine with that if those dreams would just bog off already.

The train journey is surprisingly uneventful. Well unless you count Vita causing a commotion a few carriages over by pretending to attack someone. We heard the screaming, and I figured it was probably Vita who'd caused it even before people started shouting about a snake.

I had to go save Vita, just in case any of the other Hogwarts students tried to kill him. Azure came with me for 'protection purposes', but I knew he just wanted to watch people try and step on Vita. I ended up wading through a throng of screaming students to reach Vita. Then I had to somehow covertly grab him and get back to my own carriage without too much fuss.

Hermione said it was a doomed mission from the start.

Azure tried to 'help' by causing a distraction; which in Azure's mind somehow translated as 'freeze **_everything_** '.

I had no choice but to climb the wall and grip onto the handles attached to the train ceiling so I could reach Vita. By that point people were screaming because of the snow storm attack caused by Azure.

Some of the older students tried to contain the ice from spreading all through the train, but Azure's power was too strong for them. Eventually Harry came striding out of our carriage with an irritated expression on his face. He managed to get the ice under control, whilst at the same time using his confident presence and calm demeanour to stop people from panicking.

Hermione came out shortly after and started rounding people up, sending them back to their carriages, her behaviour and voice both firm and assertive. She took complete control of the situation alongside Harry and within half an hour they had everything sorted again.

I kind of wanted to hate them for it.

When I climbed down from the ceiling with Vita up my sleeve, Harry gave me a look that quite clearly said ' _there is nothing about this situation that surprises me. Including the fact that it was you who caused it'_. I didn't see how that was fair. Technically speaking it was Vita who started it. But since Vita is my snake, and Azure is my dragon….I suppose it was a moot point to argue.

Anyway, apart from that everything went smoothly. I got the feeling that _some people_ did not agree with that, but shut up Harry!

When we arrived at the station I got a hug from Katie and she made me promise for about the billionth time that I would definitely write to her over the summer. Ron was a little less huggy, but he did squeeze my arm somewhat affectionately, and I'm pretty sure in Ron's world that means 'I like you the best'.

I also got a high five or a fist bump from almost every single Gryffindor. Fred and George gave me the weirdest double hug ever, and they promised to help me with my baby whale next year as well. They suggested I come over to theirs at some point in the summer. Ron had said the same thing, and I was already thinking of when the best time would be to visit.

I saw Hermione giving Kit a fond punch to the shoulder. Kit just rolled his eyes and pulled Hermione into an embrace.

Harry was off surrounded by Slytherins and their parents. All of them clearly Pureblood's. Harry appeared to fit right in amongst them. I'm not completely sure what to make of that to be honest.

Eventually the three of us drifted towards each other, as we always do, and we headed off to find our own parents.

Just like at Christmas, the moment I see Dalia and Adam I can't stop myself from running towards them at full speed.

They look tired. Exhausted actually. But they also have big grins on their faces, and I can see how excited they are to have us home.

I throw myself at Adam, who steps forward to catch me in his arms. He wraps me up in an unwaveringly tight embrace. I cuddle into his shoulder, not caring whose watching us, just wanting to soak in Adam's existence.

Adam holds me close, like he might never let go again. For some reason it feels so much more powerful than it did when we came home for Christmas. I wonder if it has anything to do with the bundling lump squirming around inside the pram next to Dalia.

When Adam finally lets me loose, he smiles at me. It's not a smile I've ever seen on his face before. He looks relieved.

"I missed you, son."

My grin couldn't possibly be any wider than it is right now. I give Adam another strong hug and whisper into his ear,

"I missed you too, Dad."

Adam tenses up a little in my arms. I've never really called Adam 'Dad' before. I'm not sure why as I've been thinking of Adam as my Dad for a long time. But somehow it feels right to do it now, like I'd been waiting for this moment on purpose. Maybe some part of me had been.

I worry for a moment that Adam might not want me to call him Dad, especially not now he has the real thing. But Adam burns those worries to ash when he hugs me even more fiercely than before, and when he pulls back his eyes look suspiciously glassy.

Adam lets me go so he can pull Hermione into a hug, and I move on to Dalia. I wrap my arms around her carefully. Even though it's been months, I don't want to risk hurting Dalia if she's still really sensitive from giving birth to Ty.

Dalia holds onto me tightly, and when we pull apart she takes my face in her hands and kisses my forehead lovingly.

"I'm so glad to have you home, baby." Dalia tells me.

"I know, I'm glad to be home too, Ma." I wink at Dalia and she rolls her eyes affectionately in response.

Harry comes over to get a kiss and a hug from Dalia. I leave them to it, knowing that Harry is more likely to let Dalia mother him if no one else is around.

I take a step towards the light blue pram and peer over the rim. Inside lies a very small human. He looks pink and a bit wrinkly from having not completely grown into his own body yet.

Ty is wide awake, but he isn't crying like I thought he would be. Maybe, like Adam told me in his letter, Ty saves all his crying for bed time. I can't blame Ty for that, going to bed can be so _boring_.

Ty's massive bush baby eyes are wide open. They're the same cerulean colour as Dalia's. He looks thoughtful, which is something I didn't know babies could pull off. I reach my hand down to gently touch one of his much smaller ones. Ty grabs onto one of my fingers almost instantly. His grip is surprisingly strong for such a little thing.

"Hello Tyson," I say quietly, leaning into the pram a bit more, "I'm your big brother Draco. I promise to be the best big brother ever."

"Oi, stop trying to make him pick a favourite." Hermione suddenly says, coming to stand next to me.

I smirk at her and say,

"I don't have to make him do anything. Ty will pick me because I'm clearly the best sibling."

"You wish." Harry says from my other side, his green eyes flashing with amusement.

All three of us exchange smiles and then we look down into the pram. Ty is staring at us, his massive ocean eyes flickering between us curiously.

Distantly I hear Adam say to Dalia,

"And then there were four."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-We have come to an end of this story and I hope you all enjoyed it. I loved writing this story, and thank you so much for reading. Please look out for the second story in this epic 'Draco Black and the Heir of Darkness', I will be posting the first chapter soon. I will also post on this story to let you know when the first chapter of the next is out. 
> 
> Spoilers for DBHD:
> 
> -Harry finds a confidant in one of his Professors, which leads to a secret being exposed about his relationship with that Professor.
> 
> -Hermione gets a Godly introduction and learns more about her biological parents.
> 
> -Draco is special to all magical creatures. They've been waiting for him. But why?
> 
> -All three children discover a prophecy. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading this story! Please review, it would mean a lot to me! xxx


	18. New Story!

**NEW STORY!**

**Sequel!**

**'Draco Black And The Dark Heir' is now up!**


End file.
